


god is gonna have to kill me twice

by drifting_i



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Castiel in the Bunker, Grace Bonds, Heavy Angst, M/M, Pre Season 13, Season 12 spoilers, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Temporary Character Death, Winchester coping mechanisms™, coda season 12 finale, post season 12, season 12
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2018-11-08 09:05:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11078394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drifting_i/pseuds/drifting_i
Summary: But he couldnt do it, he was weak even when it came to give up. Cas did look like he was sleeping then, like he did 7 years ago in the same backseat, just a new tie and a new coat, Dean misses when Cas dying grace was his biggest problem, he took another look at him, he started to feel sick. He drove for another 8 hours.In the end he brings Cas to the bunker. He brings him home.-------Dean doesnt take death for an answer. Not when he still has so much left to say.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas did look like he was sleeping then, like he did 7 years ago in the same backseat, just a new tie and a new coat, Dean misses when Cas dying grace was his biggest problem, he took another look at him, he started to feel sick. He drove for another 8 hours.
> 
> In the end he brings Cas to the bunker. He brings him home.

Dean doesnt remember most of it, really. He remembers the worst as always, the heat of an angels grace being burned out, the empitness that came when the portal closed with Mary and Lucifer in it and the smell of charred broken wings. Everything goes blank for a few minutes but he remembers hearing Sams scream from inside the house, thats probably the only sound that could have gotten him to move that night.

He doesnt remember grabing Cas blade or running inside to find Sam bleeding and unconscious next to a broken crib. He remembers the eyes of the "kid". Yellow. A familiar yellow, he also remembers that he was angry, empty and had nothing to lose. He doesnt remember the fight but he remembers the kids screams and the blast of light. White, cold and unpure light, after he stabbed him in the chest with Cas' blade, even after he was gone he was still fighting for them. 

He doesnt remember what started the fire, must have been the body of the nephilim, but he remembers carrying Sam out of the door like the good ol days, he dumped him on the front seat and noticed there was a nasty cut in his forehead that drenched his whole face with blood. Dean remembers thinking that they better get the fuck away from here, find a hospital and raid it like usual but he keeps walking towards the back of the house, it gets worse the longer he looks at him, he remembers seeing Cas sleep once maybe twice. It doesnt look like that now. He crouched down to carry him but his legs wouldn't get up again, he stopped trying.

He screamed himself raw. Cas wasnt even warm anymore. He screamed for a long time, he screamed for God for Chuck, after five minutes he starts asking Amara, she brought the most important person for him back right? Maybe she can do it again. As usual theres no response. Cas coat is stained with blood and his tears. He doesnt remember how he got him in the backseast. There were sirens in the distance and they had to get the hell outta there, but Mom...

He started the car and drove for 5 hours, directionless, before stopping. Sam wasnt waking up and he was barely breathing, the bleeding had stopped only half an hour ago, he probably lost too much blood, Dean took a look at the backseat. For a good thirty seconds he considered finding the nearest bridge and putting Baby on a nosedive. Whatever right? The world doesnt need them anymore, the british had taken care of most of the monsters and now they were death or on the run, the last archangel is gone, heaven is closed for good and the demons are kingless and godless. Its over. 

But he couldnt do it, he was weak even when it came to give up. Cas did look like he was sleeping then, like he did 7 years ago in the same backseat, just a new tie and a new coat, Dean misses when Cas dying grace was his biggest problem, he took another look at him, he started to feel sick. He drove for another 8 hours.

In the end he brings Cas to the bunker. He brings him home.

 

 

The adrenaline rush that got him to carry Sam out of another house fire has long since passed. His brother isnt a little kid anymore and his shoulder is somehow dislocated from his fight with the nephilim, he makes Sam lie down on the frontseat and goes to the kitchen to get some ice for his brothers head and a bottle of whatever is on the first shelf for his own. Cas body is still on the backseat and Dean cant get himself to leave him there, Cas is much more lighter than Sam, Dean thinks when he takes him on his arms again, he brings him to Cas room just a few doors next to Deans, he puts his body on the nearly unused bed. Cas room has always been empty, emptier than Sams ever was even when his room was just his "office", even then Sam had some books he always carried around and some old photos, Cas doesnt have anything, this makes Dean feel even worse. He starts to remember the time he had told Cas this was his room, how nervous he had been, trying to play it off as if it wasnt a big deal. The smile Cas gave him, God, he takes a swing of the bottle and pulls up the desk chair next to the bed, he grabs Cas hand, its too damn cold and the bottle keeps getting emptier. After the bottle drains and shatters he feels his eyes closing, Dean doesnt have the energy or the will to fight it he takes another look at Cas and whispers “Im sorry.” He doesnt let go of Cas hand.

 

 

He wakes up to the sound of crying. Its Sam, seating on his discarded chair with his head between his hands, Deans head is yelling at him but he gets up from the floor and realizes hes still holding Cas hand, his stomach twists. Dean puts an arm around his brothers shoulders which only makes Sam cry harder, theres dried blood on his hair and face but his tears seem to be taking care of it.

“Its like we were only there to watch” Sam mutters, his eyes dont leave the floor.

Theres an obvious statement in the air. One down, two to go.

“We didnt do anything. We were just... there.” Sam has never been the pessimist of the three, that role was always Cas or Deans but Dean guesses this calls for it. “We did what we could. We fought Lucifer, Sam hes gone.” Dean can tell that anything he says isnt gonna be enough because he feels the same way. “We didnt do anything about the nephilim, we should have killed Kelly when we had the chance, maybe mom would still be here and Cas...” Sam wishes he killed an inocent woman, Dean realizes this day really cant get any worse “We had to try, Sammy” Sam sighs ”I know” Dean sits on the bed, hes still so tired “Besides, the nephilim is dead” He doesnt look at Sams face. Sam takes a lot of time to answer. “How?” he doesnt sound mad or angry just tired like this is just another case, another monster who had yet to do any real harm. "I thought he had attacked you so I just picked up Cas blade.” Dean left it in the backseat. Sam chokes out a broken laugh, “He was scared of me, I ran into the room and I didnt think I just ran at him. Thats all I remember.” Wait this day can really get worse. "I should have let it live, Cas said he opened the door, maybe he could do it again.” Dean feels like he did when he was four, like the words people want him to say are to hard to speak. He feels like he just lost his mom, oh and the only friend he had left. “You couldnt do that, if that thing could open portals from the fucking womb, he could have really killed us all if he was at full power.” Sams right as usual. It doesnt make Dean feel better about Mary.

 

They sit in silence for a long time. Half of their family gone, in a matter of hours. Dean thinks about how he didnt have a chance to truly be on good terms with his own mom, he thinks about how Cas and him had been fighting for a month, how they couldnt work things out, not really. As always theres so many things he didnt get to say to Cas. He leaves the room to find another bottle. Sam doesnt stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments give me life <3 if you want here's [my tumblr](http://i-drifting.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only thing Dean thinks is that this is exactly how he felt when Sam died, and he knows that damned him to hell. Literally. Dean cant live in a world without Cas. Its that simple.
> 
> Dean doesnt know what to do. No one in hell can bring back an angel so thats out of the question, heaven would rather burn itself to the ground than bring Cas back, and God... God doesnt listen. Deans running out of options.

It has been what? Twelve? Maybe fifteen hours? Dean doesnt know and he doesnt care.

After he came back with his second bottle Sam and him drank it all in under twenty minutes. His brother, drunk and absolutetly hell bent on making Dean feel worse, kept talking about the dead, about mom and Cas, saying what Dean was thinking, “We didnt have enough time” He said between sobs. Dean sighed, welcoming the distraction, Sam was always a light weight and he was always an emotional drunk, but with him he could deal. He could tell him the same bullshit Dean always told him and never believed to make his little brother feel better, he could let him cry and scream and curse, he could even watch him pray. It seemed that when Sam met God his faith got even stronger but now it was useless and bitter. He could carry Sam to his room when he started to close his eyes and he could make sure he didnt die in his sleep, it was an almost automatic process.

He couldnt deal with what was waiting for him back on the hallway. He never could, not really. Not even the first time, Dean knew Castiel back then, not Cas but still Castiel had died for them and their silly hopeless cause, he had betrayed everything and everyone he ever knew just for Dean and his lunatic crusade and Dean didnt even get to stop Lucifer from rising, didnt even get to thank him. Or the other time when Cas had betrayed them and he was so hurt and angry, he still couldnt watch his friend die and stay dead for more than a week. Or watch him die as a human bleeding and alone. He couldnt watch him die without doing something about it.

And now? God, now everything was even worse that it had been. Dean didnt think that was possible, but now he knew what Cas was like truly like. 

He knew how cursed in enochian when a fight went south, how he frowned when he got frustrated over driving lessons, how he always looked smug when he could brag about his true form to a captivated Sam and Mary, how he always seemed to smile when he made Sam or Dean laugh, how Cas had offered to die with him when he had to face Amara even when Dean could have done it alone, how he had pretended that he could taste Deans cooking for weeks before Sam told him about molecules and grace, how the first thing Cas ever did when he hadnt seen them in a long time was check if they needed healing, how he fought tooth and nail for over an hour to protect an unconsious Sam from some rouge demons with failing grace until Dean got there, how he healed a deer that had been hit by car and passed out from the effort, how when he woke up the first thing he asked was “Is the deer safe?” and how he thought that Star Wars was an amazing represantation of humankind “Its no wonder its so popular”

Dean drinks more in hopes of forgetting all that.

It doesnt work

 

 

The days pass. 

Sam sleeps it off, kind of. Dean only sees him when he goes to the kitchen for more alcohol or sleeping meds. Dean doesnt leave Cas room. His shit brain keeps reminding of shit Cas did or said, which makes him feel hollow, hes afraid that if he leaves the room he wont be able to come back to see him. Dead in his bed, the only time he got to use it. 

After the second night blind pain gives way to realization. Cas is gone. And Dean will never see him again. He wont get to talk to him, or listen to his voice, fuck, Dean will never hear Cas again. He cant think. He cant breathe, hes so empty and it hurts so fucking much. Dean will never see Cas again. He cant even begin to think about apologizig to him, about thanking him, about saying what he needed to say. He doesnt think any of that, he just realizes that Cas is truly fucking gone, has been for three days and Dean cant deal with it.He knows that this wont be something he can kill his way ou of. He knows that this will kill him. The only thing Dean thinks is that this is exactly how he felt when Sam died, and he knows that damned him to hell. Literally. Dean cant live in a world without Cas. Its that simple.

Dean doesnt know what to do. No one in hell can bring back an angel so thats out of the question, heaven would rather burn itself to the ground than bring Cas back, and God... God doesnt listen. Hes running out of options.

 

 

Dean follows Sams example, after the second night in a row of not sleeping he gives in, and passes out next to Cas. His dreams give him some relief.

Its a recent memory. It was the night they had rescued Sam from the british pshycos. Dean rembers being in his kitchen floor looking at old photos of his mom, who was back from the dead. It was an... interesting night. He felt happy and worried and relieved and mostly worried. Cas showed up after dinner, he had texted Dean that he stopped for gas a couple of miles away from the bunker and he was gonna arrive later. Truck emoji, clock emoji. Now he was there.

He entered the kitchen and upon seeing Dean on the floor, he joined him, sitting extremly closely, Dean didnt mind, he was used to it with Cas. “Whats on your mind?” Cas looked at the photos, Dean would have put them away if it were anyone else, even Sam, these photos were His. The way they made him feel was too private, but well it was Cas. “I cant fucking believe it, man.” He seemed hypnotized by the oldest photo, just him and his mom. “Shes just back.” Dean looked at Cas who was already staring. “After, holy shit. thirty four years. And I just cant believe I get to talk to her again, to see her and listen to her voice. I cant believe you and Sam get to meet her.” Cas always watched him talk with the attention Dean used to aim in the shooting range, that sometimes made it harder to talk to him but right now he was so fucking grateful for Cas being here and talking about this, because he couldnt talk to Sam with this kind of ease. Sam who was always there and most of the time was waiting for Dean to break and spill blood all over the floor. He had to be careful with Sam, especially right now, this was their Mother they talked about, and it was always a touchy subject. But Cas was a free card with Dean. Cas came and went when he pleased and while Dean sort of hated when he disappeared he was sometimes grateful for the space Cas gave him, Deans not sure he could be with Cas 24/7 without doing something really stupid.

So it was always easier to talk to Cas, Dean is not really sure why, it just is, no matter how personal, Cas seemed to get what he was trying to say with little to no words, it was sort of amazing. “Shes a very good fighter” apparently Cas had been watching them from outside, “and shes very open with her questions” Mary hadnt stooped asking Cas about his angeic abilities the whole ride there and Cas loved to show off. “It will get easier” Cas said “you three just need time” Dean, surprisingly believed him.

 

 

Dean wakes up with Cas’ voice.

‘just need time’ hes right, they needed more time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited, to make it more mobile friendly  
> I promise ill update often but i got a new puppy!!!! and its a shit ton of work but ive had her for half a day and if anything happened to her i would kill everyone on this room and then myself. heres [my tumblr](http://i-drifting.tumblr.com/) if you wanna see what i do when im procarastinating this fic


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His headache feels worse, his brain is making a hundred connections once.  
> ‘A spell.’ Fuck, the cryptic spell on a biblical weapon he read two years ago. He got obssesed with it because the book was from 1756 and they described ‘a devastation never known to men.’ And the key ingredient: ‘The escense of the fallen.’ It was a spell about harvesting fucking fallen angels grace into a human body, thats what he needs.  
> He decides not to think about how the volunteer sorta exploded and took the town with him, it was obviously because the vessel was wrong.
> 
> “Impossible my ass.” Dean says, smiling for the first time in five days.

“Dean it's been five days” Sam still looks half asleep, he's also pale and shaking. Dean should say something about the sleeping meds but he doesn't have the energy. “We should do something...” we should burn him. The statement is obvious, Dean hates Sam for bringing this up, for even thinking about it. The smell of dried blood has been absorbed by the walls and Dean can't stand it. He gets mad all over again.

Dean has tried so hard not to think about it, Cas body, gone for good. The only thing left he has of that night, because he didn't get that privilege with Mary, turning to ash.

“No.” It’s the only thing Dean knows for sure, he's not ready to let go, he wasn't ready to see him die.

“Dea-” Sam starts, “No! Goddamn it, Sam.” He looks up from the floor to see Sam in the eye, he knows he looks pathetic, sitting beside Cas’ bed with bloody knuckles and tear stained clothes, there's pieces of the chair he smashed in desperation all over which makes him feel worse. He shouldn't have done that and he shouldn't have punched the walls either, this is Cas' room, but he was so angry and everything he did felt empty.

“Then what are we supposed to do huh?” Sam is angry too, it's written across his face. He's barley keeping it together, but Sam is at least trying. Dean is so far gone he doesn't remember what together is anymore. “There's nothing to do Dean! There's no deals we can make, no one we can pray too, we don't even know what happens to angels when they die! He is, fuck, he's gone.” Sams voice breaks as he looks away from the bed.

“I said no.” Deans voice is weak but final. He is the exact opposite, no matter how hard he tries he can't seem to stop himself from looking at Cas’ face everytime he thinks about him, he's been trying to not forget his smile. Those were few and far between but Dean always tried to remember what made them happen. Cause he felt like he was punched in the stomach every time they did.

In a stupid attempt to remember, he looked at his phone photo gallery for hours yesterday. Going through pictures of the three of them, cause he hated himself that much. There was one that caught his eye. It was a candid from three months ago, Sam took the picture. In it there's Cas front and center, a beer in his hand. He's not smiling but his eyes are, the way the light hits his head makes it look like he has a halo, Dean found this amusing.

In the pic he's looking at Dean, who was retelling the story of how he had shot hitler in the face for the ninth hundred time. No one but Cas had believed him, for Dean that was enough. In the photo they are in Sam’s room watching some tv. But Cas wasn't looking at the screen and neither was Dean. His phone died from the lack of power after staring at the pic for two hours and calling Cas phone to hear his voicemail for one.

“Dean I can't let you do this.” Sam clearly isn't giving up “There's nothing to do. I’ve looked everywhere since we found the bunker in ways to bring back angels. There's many ways to bring back people, but creatures with no souls... it’s impossible. Im sorry.”

“Well we didn't have motivation before, right?” Dean says “And you couldn't go over every single angel file on your own, not with all the new ones Mick sent us.” The brits were obsessed with Cas, they were always asking them for more intel, Dean always told them to fuck off. “That's like seventy more years of angel lore, Sam.”

“Dean.” Sam looks like Deans words cause him physical pain. “It’s useless. No, listen. When angels die they don't go anywhere, they are just gone. That's all anyone knows. Im sorry, the only person who could bring him back is God. There's nothing you can do.” Sam disappears behind the door and his footsteps fade into the hallway.

“Watch me.” Dean thinks.

 

 

Before getting to work Dean allows himself one last night of mourning, one last night or remembering and sleep.

“Cas.” Dean looks at him from the floor “Im so fucking sorry.” His voice breaks at the end.

It’s unsettling and frankly weird, but he's been sleeping in the bed with Cas. He knows it’s wrong and maybe even disrespectful, but it keeps his nightmares at bay somehow. So he lays down next to Cas and passes out looking at the ceiling.

At first he's on a road, its the night they escaped the worst fucking place Deans known on earth. Cas is driving, Dean was too tired to argue with him so he let him drive. Even though he had just killed fucking Death for him Cas was still making him favors, Sam and Mary were asleep on the backseat. Dean wanted to follow their example but Cas’ speech kept replaying on his head and, God Dean had missed him so fucking much.

‘You mean too much to me.’ Dean was honestly, probably, definitely reading too much into that right? Yeah, totally. Cas had always been an emotinal guy and he hadn't seen them in months. It was just a heat of the moment kind of thing. Dean suppressed a laugh, even he wasn't buying that.

He looked at Cas and Cas glanced back, Dean realized that he was pissed as hell with him, it was always easier to be mad. “You always have to be the fucking hero don't you.” Deans words had such an edge to them that Cas slowed the car down. “Well, I learned from the best.” Cas voice just sounded tired. Dean didn't say another word to him in days.

The dream changes.

They are on the bunkers library now, Sam was already asleep. Dean remembers that night extremly vividly. The tension was so thick Dean considered making a run for it and just go hide on his room like he did most of the time, but he stopped himself. Cas was hurt, badly. And all the shit Ishim had said just messed him up even more. ‘Your Human weakness.’ The worst thing is that the phrase was already familiar for both. Since they met that was what Dean had always been to Cas in heavens perspective, his biggest weakness.

And tonight was such a close call for Cas, Dean hadn't been so worried for him since Lucifer was wearing him around, which seemed ages ago. The thing is, they already sort of talked about it with Sam and a few beers, there's no reason for the tension. But with Cas and Dean more often than not there were a lot of things left unsaid.

“Cas.” Dean couldn't take it anymore. “Come with me I wanna show you something.”

Dean was freaking out, but there was no turning back now. He led Cas past his and Sams room and towards the one that he had decided was Cas’ 

“There it is. Enjoy.” He took the key out of the door knob and threw it at Cas, okay it was done, now he could go and hide in his room until morning. “Dean, wait. What is this?” Cas sounded so confused Dean laughed a little which only made Cas squint. “It's your room, Cas. We realized you only creepily wander around the bunker when you're here so, yeah...” Dean was internally chanting ‘don't make this a big deal don't make this a big deal don-’ "Thank you?” Cas interrupted. He was obviously still confused and with good reason too, Dean didn't do these things without a motive.

“Look, man. All that shit Ishim said, you know it’s not true right?” Deans eyes bretrayed him and looked into Cas’ “If there's a place that you would like to call home, it could be here if you want.” Dean saw a smile grow on Cas face and he felt a sudden rush to his stomach, he probably hit his head too hard.

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas said. His voice sounded so genuine and happy Dean smiled too. “No problem.” Dean answered.

“No. Really, thank you.” Cas reached over and placed his hand hand on Deans shoulder and the hand print there felt like a burn, in a good way. Dean smiled wider.

 

 

After Dean wakes up he knows it’s time.

He decides to wait until Sam is asleep, he knows his brother will try to stop him and give him another speech on how the only thing that's keeping Dean from blowing his brains out, finding a way to bring Cas back, is useless. So when Sam finally takes a near lethal dose of pills he leaves Cas’ room for the first time since they got here.

The quiet in the bunker is suffocating. It never was before, Dean loved the silence.

He opens Sams laptop which has all their files, including the new ones. Now digitalized, courtesy of Charlie and two six packs of Red Bulls. He misses her too, he knows she would find some way to make him feel better. Dean wonders if Cas has run into her wherever they are. He starts looking for resurrection files, if he finds nothing there he will try angel ones.

12,695 Files found. It’s gonna be a long night.

Resurrection takes him nearly twenty two hours. It’s useless, most of it is about pure theory and known cases. The rest is spells with less than thirty percent success rates. All of them say that if the person has been dead for more than three days everything is useless. Dean feels his stomach drop, he keeps looking.

Sam wakes up, takes one look at Dean, sighs and goes back into his room. Dean ignores him and continues with the angel files. He gets through the fisrt eight letters of the alphabet, which takes him almost eight hours, until he gets to ‘I.’ The section reads ‘Interview.’ He clicks it.

‘October 1998. Usual summoning. Unknown Angel. The subject was offered human souls in exchange of information.’ He reads the article, its obvious that most of the information they have on angels, which isn't a lot, came from this one meeting. At the end there's all the questions and answers. Most of it is stuff Dean already knew, but the last two questions are new.

‘Do angels always belong in heaven?’ If we fall we can't ever return. If we are destroyed we become pure energy which fuels our rightful home.

‘What happens if a fallen angel is killed?’ Fallen angels do not belong anywhere, their essence is forever wandering. Lost in the human plane.

Dean closes the laptop. ‘Holy fucking shit.’ He thinks.

 

 

His headache feels worse, his brain is making a hundred connections once. ¿A spell.’ Fuck, the cryptic spell on a biblical weapon he read two years ago. He got obsessed with it because the book was from 1756 and they described ‘a devastation never known to men.’ And the key ingredient: ‘The essence of the fallen.’ It was a spell about harvesting fucking fallen angels grace into a human body, that's what he needs. He decides not to think about how the volunteer sorta exploded and took the town with him, it was obviously because the vessel was wrong.

“Impossible my ass.” Dean says, smiling for the first time in five days. He wants to go get Sam just to rub it in his face but he doesn't, he's too eager to find it first.

He tears the library apart trying to find the book, because his brother is a fucking mess and never considers the alphabetized order Dean put in place. After four fucking hours and two whisky's he finds it. The spell could actually work for what he needs, he's got ‘a willing vessel’ and most of the rare ingredients even a human soul, his own will do. The only thing he needs is a little bit of Cas gace to bring back the rest.

Dean remembers what Sam explained, the leftovers they have from healing. How they never fade, not completely at least. And is there's anyone with enough of Cas’ grace its Dean, the last time they were together Cas healed him. Hell the guy fucking brought him back from the dead. The angelic needle is in the car, which smells like blood. Most of Deans things do.

He gathers all the ingredients on Cas’ room. Dean stands in front of the mirror, mentally preparing himself, he always hated having his blood taken and he knows this will probably be way fucking worse. He sighs and pushes the needle into his neck.

The pain is almost unbearable. He knows that if he makes a wrong move he could go into shock or worse, so he grits his teeth and pushes down harder. The first sight of grace blinds him for a few seconds but he continues. He feels the same pain on his leg from six days ago, it’s working. He keeps going. After three minutes Dean knows he will pass out, he takes the needle out with a scream and places it on the table. Just in time. His head hits the floor and the world fades.

“Dean! What the fuck?! Can you hear me?” Sam screams, and Deans whole body hurts. “Why is your leg bleeding? Is that grace?” Dean opens his eyes and realizes he's still on the floor. “I heard you scream, what the hell happened?”

“Sam, oh my god shut the fuck up. My head is killing me.” He tries to stand up and finds out that a)his leg is more broken than it was before he passed out and b)his body isn't the only thing that's in pain. The ache runs deeper, like someone stole a memory from him, something that belonged to him.

Sam finally starts connecting the dots. “What were you doing?” His tone is judgmental and sad. “Don't start, please.” Every time Dean wakes up the pain of the loss finds its way back into him. It hurts worse than the broken leg. “I know this will work, Sam. Hear me out first, damnit! I know it will.” Dean explains his drunken investigation and how he came across the spell. Saying it out loud makes it sound even more insane than in his head.

Sam stays quiet for a long time. “Dean, offering your soul and combining it with angels grace... It could kill you, it could burn you out from the inside.” Sam says this like Dean hadn't thought about it. The whole thing is familiar, one Winchester soul in exchange for a loved one. Sam thinks Dean learns from his mistakes, Dean laughs. “That hasn't stopped me before.” And it sure as hell won’t stop him now. Not when most of the ropes he had been holding onto have been cut.

“Sam, let me do this.” Deans voice breaks ‘I need to do this, if I don't at least try I will lose it.’ He thinks.

“We both know that I can't stop you, but I wont watch you do this to yourself.” He starts to walk out of the room. “And Dean, you know that if you die too... I will follow. You're the last thing I have left." Dean closes his eyes and hears his brothers words for a long time.

He gets to work. Automatically, he crushes ancient relics, mutters some Latin and reads the spell before taking Cas blade and making a cut on his own throat. Panic threatens to take over him but he manages to say the incantation. Fascinated he watches as something golden leaves his body. He finishes the offering. It translates to ‘I give everything I am.’ Dean feels that he had already done that. In purgatory, to same person he's trying to bring back again.

The cut in his neck disappears. He takes the syringe and breaks it above the summoning sigil that's drawn on Cas’ body. His hands shake.

“-Castiel.” He finishes. ‘Please come back to me.’

The lamp above him explodes and the ground shakes. Dean barely notices any of this. He feels like every fire in the world is inside him, lighting his soul and body up, like something biblical is on his veins. He screams, or at least he thinks he does. There's a familiarity to the feeling that distracts him from the pain.

Everything ends as fast as it started. Dean gets up from the floor and holds his breath.

“Dean.” It’s the first thing Cas says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck okay yeah its been too damn long and honestly i hate myself lmao. but i wanted this to be longer and i just couldnt make myself like it. Anyways,,,,, sorry for the cliff hanger. yell at me about it in the comments or on [my tumblr](http://i-drifting.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What did you do?” Cas asks. Dean ignores him, he is sure his heart is gonna give out but he manages to not collapse on Cas.
> 
> “Cas.” His voice is weak and filled with emotion. He hugs him so hard he thinks his arms are gonna snap. Strangely the lights that didn’t blow on the hallway flicker.
> 
> They stay like that. Dean holds Cas, his face buried in his coat and his heartbeat faster than it has ever been. Cas grips Deans shoulders like his life depends on it.

“What did you do?” Cas asks. Dean ignores him, he is sure his heart is gonna give out but he manages to not collapse on Cas. “Cas.” His voice is weak and filled with emotion. He hugs him so hard he thinks his arms are gonna snap. Strangely the lights that didn’t blow on the hallway flicker.

They stay like that. Dean holds Cas, his face buried in his coat and his heartbeat faster than it has ever been. Cas grips Deans shoulders like his life depends on it. They are still like that when Sam runs into the room. “Cas?!” He walks towards the bed and throws his ‘tiny’ body at them, Cas winces when Sams arms wrap around his chest and Dean manages to pull his leg away from the death trap that is an emotional Sam.

“Watch it! He was dead fifteen seconds ago.” Dean tries to push Sam away. “Shit, sorry.” Sam pulls back, tears running down his face. 

Cas hasnt taken his eyes of Dean. “What did you do?” Dean figures he owes the guy an explanation.

“No. Nothing stupid. I promise.” Both of them glare at him. Fucking Sam always ganging up on him. “But first, whats the last thing you remember?” Cas doesn’t break eye contact. Dean doesn’t either. “I Stabbed Lucifer in the eye. Then I crossed the portal, I saw you and... What happened?” Sam and Dean exchange looks.

“Apparently he recovered quickly. H-he got you in the back.” Sam explains, silence fills the room. “I know. I felt my grace burning out. That’s what I don’t understand, how could you restore it? How do I feel more powerful than before?” Dean feels confusion wash over him, huh weird. “Wait. What happened after I died? How did you two manage to stay alive?” Cas tone turns from confused to worried. 

“Have you met us?” Dean tries and fails to lighten the mood. “We are not sure,” Sam says. “It, fuck, Everything was out of control. Lucifer came out of the portal too but mom was already there.”

“Mary?” Cas asks. “Yeah.” Dean tells him. Cas looks down, Dean can feel what he’s thinking ‘I should have been there.’ Pain overcomes him. “She fucking punched him in the face.” He manages a broken laugh but his voice gives out. “He grabbed her just when the portal was closing.” Sam finishes.

“Im sorry.” Cas looks like he wants to hug them but he keeps his hand pressed against the wound on his chest. His fingers are red with fresh blood. “Im so sorry.”

No one says anything for a long time.

 

 

After what feels like hours Cas curiosity finally wins. “What about the nephilim?” Dean notices he doesn’t call him ‘the kid’ or ‘Jack’ and he’s thankful. “It’s dead,” Dean says. His tone is harsh and cold. He sneaks a look at Cas, guilt is clear on his face. “You know we don’t blame you for that thing, right?” Dean is so tired of half assed conversations. “That thing teleported us to another fucking universe, Cas. We know it was messing with your head.” 

“Yeah. We saw how his power overtook you at the gates.” Sam continues. “It wasn’t you, even your eyes turned yellow.” Cas seems so angry Dean fears he might punch something. “I should have killed her. Before I gave it the chance to grow stronger.” 

Dean sighs. “We all should have acted faster. Too bad we have a conscience and we didn’t want to kill an inoccent woman.” Dean inches closer to Cas. 

“We all fucked up. But in the end? It was Crowley’s fault.” Dean says. 

“What do you mean?” Cas asks.

“We had a plan. We figured that we could remove Lucifer’s grace from the kid’s soul he would grow up like a normal human person. We weren’t counting on Lucifer being out.” Sam explains how Crowley won the award for World’s Biggest Fuck Up in an attempt to make his dick look bigger. 

“That makes absolutely no sense.” Cas is right. “How did he even think he could control an archangel? I frankly thought Crowley was smarter than that.” 

“We know. Character inconsistency is bitch right? But anyways he’s dead.” Dean reveals. “He was the last ingredient to the spell that closed the portal. So he managed to set things right.” Dean is probably gonna miss the guy and honestly he thought Crowley wouldn’t go down so easily.

“I still don’t understand how you single handedly brought me back to life.” Cas looks at him, when Dean turns his head too, he suddenly notices that they’re sitting practically in each others laps, he doesn’t try to pull away though. He just stares at Cas, who was dead for nearly a week, who Dean missed so fucking much.

Sam awkwardly coughs. Dean quickly pulls back and stands up. “Fucking finally some recognition around here. I managed to bring both of you back to life and you don’t even thank me.” Dean was way too close to Cas just a second ago, the fact has just catched up with him. “In all fairness I brought you two back as well. But thank you, Dean.” Cas seems to be playing along. Dean is relived.

“Yeah I’m not thanking any of you. You went to hell and you forgot my soul, so.” Sam smiles.

“But seriously,” Cas says. “How?” Dean grabs the spell book from the desk. “It’s a long, drunk and sleep deprived story.” Dean says. “Most of his stories are.” Sam whispers. “Shut the fuck up, Sam. I just brought someone back to life.” Dean hands Cas the book. “This is how.”

Cas reads the spell in record time. “This should be impossible.” Dean grins, Sam rolls his eyes. “But I suppose the fact that your soul and my grace were previously bonded made the spell more easy and it could have been able to do it again.” Dean refuses to acknowledge that he’s blushing, there he goes again with the whole ‘bonded’ thing. 

“What do you mean previously?” Sam asks after finishing reading the spell. “That wasn’t some weird figure of speech for saying you like Dean better than me?” Dean wants to punch him.

“Okay yeah, you don’t remember the brand of oil the car uses after 20 years but you remember that conversation from when you had no soul.” Dean fakes a smile when Sam looks at him. “My feelings were hurt,” Sam says, his smile tells Dean that he knows what he’s saying. It’s also saying that he really wants to wake up bald tomorrow. “You didn’t even have feelings at the time!” Dean exclaims.

“No. It wasn’t a figure of speech.” Cas continues, obliviously. “When I raised you from hell, part of my grace was left behind. Think of it as a leftover. That’s probably how you could do this.” He gestures to himself. “But this spell is unprecedented. I don’t honestly know what side effects it could bring.” 

“You worry too much, Cas. Look as long as I w-we have you back, we can deal with everything else later.” Dean really needs to stop talking. He blames the lack of sleep.

“How long was I... dead?” Cas asks. “Nearly a whole week,” Sam responds. “We um were in pretty rough shape for a few days.”

“Understatement.” Dean mutters. 

“We are really glad you’re back man.” Sam ignores him.

“I’m glad to be back,” Cas says, smiling at them both. Dean’s stomach twists like usual. “Now is our turn to interrogate you.” Dean sits on the desk, his leg is still bleeding. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got stabbed,” Cas deadpans.

“Very funny, asshole. Answer me.” 

“It’s complicated... I feel my grace at it’s most powerful maybe even more than ever, at the same time I’m sleepy?” Cas squints at the bed. “This makes no sense.” 

“Well this is the longest you’ve been dead, Cas. You’re probably adjusting,” Sam comments. “We should probably let you rest.” Sam gets up. He looks that he’s the one who wants to be resting. Dean feels the same, the rush of need and adrenaline is gone and he’s ready to get back to his memory foam mattress, at the same time he doesn’t want to leave Cas’ room.

“We’re here if you need anything. And I think you should take it easy for a while,” Sam says and his eyes grow sadder. “We really thought you were done for.” He lingers at the doorway like he doesn’t want to go just yet. In the end, he does.

So it’s just the two of them.

“Dean... About the spell.” Here we go. “I didn’t wanna mention this in front of Sam in case it might worry him but, the side effects. They might affect you too.” Cas tone is cautious, like he’s choosing his words very carefully.

“What do you mean?” Dean figured he would be affected but just during the spell. “You uh agreed to share your soul with me, bonding it with my grace. I think that is what is healing my grace to an unprecedented state. You know that human souls are powerful and mixed with my grace could be ah dangerous” Cas looks almost embarrassed, it’s clear that he’s not sharing all the details. 

“But you’re healing and your powers are coming back, right?” Dean asks. He doesn’t get why Cas is so worried about.

“Yes but because your soul is ah, intertwined with my grace is doing the same with your soul, it could affect you both physically and mentally.” Cas explains this slowly like Dean does to Sam when his car is involved. “I don’t have any idea how this will affect both of us, I don’t know how my powered grace will react at all. We should be careful.”

“Look, Cas. As long as you’re here I don’t care if I grow wings and I have to carry a harp around.” Shit that sounded way less sappy in Dean’s head.

“Dean how many times do I have to say that there were never any harps!” Cas voice is muted by the sound of Dean’s laughter. After it dies down the silence is filled with something different. They both sit together in it for a while.

When Dean gets to his room he falls asleep the moment his head touches the pillow. Even tho it’s barely noon. ‘It’s okay,’ he thinks. ‘If he’s here it’s okay.’ 

He worries about that thought when he wakes up.

 

 

He has no dreams this time. He wakes up after barely three hours. Feeling extremly rested, even though he hadn’t slept in days. He tries to come up for a reason. He’s got nothing.

He swings by Cas’ room to check on him. He’s asleep, face down in between his bloodied sheets. Shit Dean should have treated the wound after it started bleeding again but Cas being back was so distracting he forgot he was still injured from a blade that pierced through his chest. His bad.

He walks towards him, trying to wake him up. “Cas.” He calls him for so long he wonders if he died again. “Agh w-what?” Wow Cas is no morning person, technically it’s almost four o’ clock but still. “You gotta let me take a look at your chest.” 

“No. I need rest.” Cas face plants against the matress. “It wasn’t a question.” Come on.” When Dean grabs him by his arm the lights flicker again. “You gotta stop doing that, I don’t wanna change more light bulbs than I already have to.” He hasn’t changed the one that blew during the spell, and he doesn’t really want to. Oh Sam doesn’t have any plans for the day does he? 

“I didn’t realize that was me.” Cas begins to unbutton his shirt and Dean stops thinking about the light bulbs. The wound is bloody and awful. “Will it scar?” He asks trying to look away. “It killed me, so probably.” 

“I thought you were healing fast?” 

“This is different.” Cas doesn’t look away from the literal hole on his chest. 

Stupidly Dean reaches out, halfway through he hesitates. He looks at Cas. “It’s alright.” His fingertips brush against Cas’ skin and the lights go off. Dean hears something that sounds like thunder and he pulls away, gasping. 

“It’s us.” Cas is breathing heavily too, his eyes flicker blue for a few seconds. “We’re the ones causing it. Your touch makes my grace react.” 

“Yeah, I figured!” Dean stands up trying to put more space between them, his ears are still ringing. “So does that mean I can’t touch you?” Dean is actually terrified this what that means.

“I don’t think so. I think we can control it. It feels like when my grace was failing, when I first fell, just as unpredictable and emotional,” Cas says “Try to calm down, then touch me.” Dean wants to say something smart but Cas intensity has him worried. He breaths in and tries not to think about Cas’ skin. His hand feels very warm when he has it pressed against Cas’ shoulder but nothing else happens.

“See? It’s okay, still we should be careful,” Cas says and it must be the dark because Dean thinks he might be blushing. Deans hand is still on his chest, he pulls away so fast Cas jumps. “Y-yeah. Alright.” Dean straightens up and gestures Cas to follow him.

There’s only first aid kits in the library, kitchen and Dean’s bathroom. They go into the later. He looks around until he finds the disinfectant, a bottle of vodka.

Cas sits in the edge of the bath, his shirt gone. Dean kneels and breaths in again. “This might burn. A lot.” He presses the cotton against the border of the wound. Cas hisses and mutters in enochian, his knuckles grip the bathtub so hard they turn white. Dean laughs. “Shut up, Dean.” 

“Hey, man no need for insults, just trying to help.” He cleans the blood with some water and more vodka.

“Y-you? Ah! Careful. Understood me?” Cas tilts his head. “Yeah?” Dean finally spots the thick bandages. “Dean I was speaking enochian.”

“Really? Huh. Lifts your arms, let me know if it’s too tight.” He wraps them around Cas’ torso. “That’s um odd. I never taught you or Sam anything other than summoning spells.” Dean stops. It is weird. “Do you think it maybe has to do with the soul thing?” 

“The soul bond?”

“Please stop saying that.” Dean closes his eyes, if Sam heard that...

“It has to be. It might be deeper than I thought, maybe it’s the connection you and I share. Because we’re so close,” Cas says. “The bandages are fine.” 

This why Dean sometimes avoids talking with Cas. He says shit like that so casually, and it affects Dean in a way he doesn’t want to look into. 

“You should go back to bed.” Nice obvious topic change. “I’ll make you something to eat. Wait do you even need to eat? Whatever we’ll see.” Dean’s aware he should leave Cas be but he doesn’t really wanna be alone. Also, it’s not like Cas minds.

“Wait, Dean. Do you have something I could wear?” Right, Cas’ only shirt is a total loss and being in a suit twenty four seven must be horrible, Dean can barely stand one for a few hours. “Yeah, sure.” He takes the first things he finds from his drawers, a black cotton shirt and some gray sweats.

“Thank you.” Cas starts freaking unbuttoning his pants right then and there. “N-no problem,” Dean says and practically runs to the kitchen.

The only things that aren’t rotten or starting to move, are barely enough for one sandwich. Well seems like Sams to-do list keeps growing. The cupboard that Mary used for the tea and things Sam and Dean bought her has probably more stuff but Dean doesn’t feel like opening it. He wonders if she’s back in heaven, he also wonders if she’s thinking about him, not just four year old him. 

‘Fuck. Not right now.’ He’s got to keep it together, things are finally looking like he could survive the week but if he starts thinking about her...

“Dean, are you alright?” Cas’ voice makes him snap out of it. “Cas I told you to go back to bed.” He turns just in time to catch him. “You can’t even walk.”

“I got here on my own didn’t I? Besides, I felt like you could use the company.” Cas looks at him sadly. Dean avoids meeting his eye and carefully drops him down in the chair. Deans shirt rides down his shoulder showing Cas’ collarbones, his sweats are also big on him, they keep sliding of his hips. 

“What was she like?” Cas asks. Dean tells him.

Every thing he remembers he tells. The first memory Dean has of her, he was three and they were at a lake, he doesn’t remember why they were there. It was summer and she took him swimming, he remembers they kept jumping up and down with the waves.

He remembers his fourth and last birthday party, she gave him a green teddy bear and he carried it everywhere, he remembers how they drove one hour to get it back from a restaurant, even when John bitched about being too tired to go back Mary told him it was important to Dean and offered to ride in the back to make him feel better. The bear didn’t survive the fire. He tells Cas so many memories he loses track of time.

He tells him about the sandwich crusts, and what she said to him every night before bed. The last thing she said to him. He tells him about all her favorite things and about the people she saved.

Cas stays silent, Dean doesn’t think he could deal with an actual conversation so he’s grateful. 

“I wish I wouldn’t have to get used to her being gone, again.” Cas takes his hand. The lights flicker, but Dean doesn’t mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is it too obvious that i dont know what im doing? also i love these three why dont they interect more im dying. Kudos and comments are very appreciated!! also check out [my tumblr](http://i-drifting.tumblr.com/) if you want


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So you’re human?” Cas stops puts down the tablet and sighs “I think so.” Dean kicks his leg gently. “We’ll figure it out.” Cas stares at him and Dean stares back, after what feels like an entire conversation they go back to reading. 
> 
> It’s weird. When Cas is around, Dean is always on edge, he’s not sure on what kind of edge but he is. But in the past few hours being with Cas feels like a long drive, constant and calming, something he’s done his entire life. He can still feel the dread and pain from his death though, so he’s not completely relaxed.

After a while Sam finds them in the library, Cas is reading the rest of the stuff Dean used to bring him back and Dean is reading a book on human souls. 

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Cas mutters every once in while, scrolling. “That’s incorrect.” Dean shushes him. “Dude I’m trying to read.”

“This angel was clearly lying to you. You need to update your information. Hey, Sam, what’s up?” Cas kicks Deans knee when he shushes him again. Sam lifts an eyebrow at Cas’ chosen words, Dean thinks he’s never heard him say ‘what’s up’ before.

“Um, not much, Cas. How are you?” Sam does look a little better, but the cut on his forehead is still swollen and the bags under his eyes are still more prominent than usual. “I’m fine, Dean helped.” Cas lifts his shirt to show him the bandages and continues reading.

“I’m also fine thanks for asking,” Dean interrupts. “But I need you to go get something to eat, Cas finished everything edible. Oh and at least two dozen lightbulbs. We’ll probably need them.” Cas glares at him “I didn’t know that was everything!”

Sam frowns. “Wait Cas needs to eat?” Cas looks down. “Yes, even when my grace is strong at the moment, I’m afraid all that’s it doing is keeping me alive. I’m practically human again.” Dean looks at him like saying ‘it’s okay.’ Sam coughs after a few seconds, “And why can’t you do it, Dean?”

“My soul is in a fragile condition, it’s unstable. I can’t drive like this,” Dean explains “Tell him, Cas.” Sam rolls his eyes when Dean winks at Cas. “Oh, yes. Deans soul needs to recover, look.” He grabs Deans hand and the lights dim. Dean grins “Sorry, Sam. It’s not by choice.” Cas Picks up Dean’s book in attempt to hide his smile, but the book is backwards.

Sam catches the Impalas keys and groans. God, he thought those two were unbearable before.

When he’s gone Dean asks, “So you’re human?” Cas stops puts down the tablet and sighs “I think so.” Dean kicks his leg gently. “We’ll figure it out.” Cas stares at him and Dean stares back, after what feels like an entire conversation they go back to reading. 

It’s weird. When Cas is around, Dean is always on edge, he’s not sure on what kind of edge but he is. But in the past few hours being with Cas feels like a long drive, constant and calming, something he’s done his entire life. He can still feel the dread and pain from his death though, so he’s not completely relaxed.

Every few minutes he looks up, Cas is immersed in his reading so he doesn’t realize. He still seems pale and fragile. Dean knows Cas is human now, sort of. But at the same time, he looks powerful and electric, but also grounded and gentle. Deans reading turns into an excuse to sit in front of him and just watch. Cas gets really into his reading and his eyes seem to flash when he finds something particularly interesting.

He mutters spells under his breath, at times. Dean hears Cas’ low voice, perfect Latin in everyone, he feels himself blush at the way the language sounds on his tongue and tries to go back to his own book.

Cas lifts his head to check on him. “Are you alright?” Deans blush deepens. “Y-yeah? Why?”

“I felt… never mind.”

“Wait you can feel what I feel?” He tries to not sound as panicked as he feels. “It might be one of the bond side effects,” Cas responds. “But not all the time, just when the emotions are very sudden or very strong. We will have to be more observant of each other,” He says like it’s not a big deal.

“Okay, look I don’t like surprises, so we need to look into this whole ‘bond’ thing okay?” Dean would probably run away if Cas suddenly could hear all his thoughts, he doesn’t want to take any chances.

“Dean. About that, there’s something I need to tell you.” Cas looks very serious suddenly. “There’s not a lot of recorded soul bonds, and none like ours but all of them have something in common. If one person within the bond dies, so does the other.”

Dean lets the fact sink in. His first thought is Sam, if they both die Sam will be all alone, Cas won’t be able to take care of him in Dean’s place. He rests his head on his hands, trying to breathe. Also, out of the three of them the ones who die most often are him and Cas. And after this time, it’s clear God is done intervening, for good. “Dean?” Cas tries to reach towards him with hesitation, his hand stops halfway.

“I guess we’ll have to watch out for each other huh?” Dean tries to act casual, he tells himself it’s not that big of a deal. This time, at least, there’s no one year deadline. “We already did that,” Cas says, visibly more relaxed. Then in a quieter voice “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” After a pause Dean says, “Honestly, I’d rather have you.” Cas blinks, a small smile on his lips. Dean waits for the panic that should come after saying that he’d rather die than be without Cas, which, point proven. It doesn’t arrive. Cas’ smile lingers for a few minutes. Dean realizes Cas already knew that. They stay silent after that.

 

 

Sam arrives after three hours of research. So far, they’ve learned: a) soul bonds aren’t something you fuck with b) Cas gets hungry quickly c) Cas ability to bitch about hunger is even better than Deans. So, when Sam finally bursts through the door carrying what seems to be nineteen bags of groceries, Dean stands up and tells him “For fuck’s sake, I’ll just make you something else.” And marches toward the kitchen.

He’s muttering something about organic overpriced lettuce when Cas appears next to him, so close their shoulders touch. Dean does not yell and grab a knife from the counter. “What the fuck are you doing? Wipe that look of your face, I could have stabbed you.” Cas manages to look even smugger. “But you didn’t. I’m glad to see I can still surprise you,” He says and grabs a piece of sliced tomato, examining it closely. He decides to give it a shot and takes a bite.

The face he makes is enough to make Dean forgive him. “Why? Why is the center so…?” Dean can’t help but laugh. “So disgusting and wet?” He finishes. “It’s the seeds I think. Why are you here anyways? I thought you were too tired to help us put the groceries away.” Cas ignores the last comment. “Teach me how to cook,” He demands. “It’s something I need to learn now,” He adds looking very resigned.

“Sure, man. You can’t be worse than Sam and I could finally stop cooking every damn meal.” Dean wants this to look like he’s also doing this for himself and the look Cas gives him says, ‘thank you.’

They spend longer than they should on the kitchen. Dean teaches him how to make the essentials, scrambled eggs, pancakes, sandwiches, soup, pasta and even some salads. Cas listens to every word with so much attention he looks like he might start to take notes. He also burns himself seven times. (“For god- what do you think oven mits are for?!” “For the oven! Not the pots!”) It’s a… long diner.

After they go through How to Not Burn the House Down with the Stove and how to properly use the coffee maker and the microwave. (“Don’t put the fucking fork in there jesus christ I thought you knew physics!” “Physics doesn’t have anything to do with this, Dean!”) Sam decides that he’s bored of sweeping broken glass and changing lightbulbs, so he comes to watch his favorite entertainment. Bickering Cas and Dean.

“What did I just say? THIS one is the salt and THAT one is the sugar.”

“They look exactly the same!” They go on like this for as long as it takes them to prepare the lemonade, which is way longer than any person should take. Sam looks as amused as he did when he watched cartoons as a kid. Dean can even look past the fact that Sam agrees with Cas at everything, especially when he’s wrong, just to piss him off. It’s fine, Sam is here and not in his room, trying to sleep everything away. Even if he’s quieter and his eyes look sadder. He’s still here.

The menu of the afternoon ends up being everything Dean taught Cas how to make. From pancakes to burger meat, someone forgot to buy the buns. But the three of them are so hungry there are little leftovers. Cas mastered most of the dishes, he sits next to him and tries everything.

He likes scrambled eggs but only with bacon, he pours an obscene amount of sugar on every cup of tea and coffee he has, he likes lettuce but only with olive oil (cause he’s a snob like Sam) and he eats the crusts Dean picks off his sandwich (cause he’s a freak.) He points out that one good thing about being human is the food (“Amen” “That doesn’t apply.” “Just… shut up and eat your crusts.”) Dean can’t wait to show him fries and an actual milkshake.

Sam points out that they have the exact same taste. “Let’s hope I’m wrong cause if you eat like him, we’re not gonna see a single vegetable here in years,” Sam says. “Good,” Cas and Dean say at the same time.

“You guys freak me out.” Dean aims for his shins. Sam yelps and throws a beer cap at his head, Cas effortlessly catches it with one hand before it can hit him. Sams eyes widen with true fear. Dean laughs and high fives Cas. Which means Cas grabs his hand awkwardly and doesn’t let go. Now Sam is the one chuckling and Dean is too focused on the warmth of Cas hand to try to stop him. But it’s fine, Dean thinks, could be better, but has been worse.

There’s something that wakes up every time Cas touches him, Dean fears what it might be, so he pushes it under for now, like he has all these years. But today is so frequent, Dean can hardly ignore it. He tries, but Cas’ hands always linger.

After that they eat in silence, everyone keeps glancing at Mary’s chair. Cas catches Dean staring at eat and presses his side against him, Dean sighs and leans into him. Sam stays quiet, but he too is looking at the chair.

It’s already nighttime when they finish cleaning up. Cas eyes already look unfocused and sleepy, but he pays attention when they explain how the dishwasher works and what goes on the fridge and what doesn’t. Sam keeps insisting butter can stay out, Dean keeps insisting to buy his own butter if he wants it to be soft and disgusting.

Dean tells Cas they should change their bandages. The wound hasn’t closed, the insides of Dean’s shirt are stained red. Cas cautiously touches his blood, he stares at it for some time. Dean takes his hand and puts it under the faucet, the water washes it away, Cas hands shake slightly. Dean can feel his fear on the edges of his own mind. He puts an arm around Cas shoulders, the lights burn brighter.

After that they help Cas flip his mattress so the bloodied side is down and he can try to fall asleep. Cas asks them to leave the door open.

Sam and Dean do their night routine, check the entrances and hex bags, make sure every backup gun and machete is on place and brush their teeth. Dean goes to check on the impala and groans, dried blood is always a pain in the ass to get out of the seats.

He walks by Sams room on the way to his. He stands in the hallway, leaning against the wall, desperately trying to think of something to say something, to console him. But there’s nothing to say, Sam lost his mom and this time he has her memory, her absence won’t go as unnoticed as it did when he was six months old.

Dean knows Sam probably feels worse than him, Sam never got closure at all but he kind of did. Dean should be able to feel the same but he can’t. They always thought so different about Mary, for Sam she was just a story and for Dean she was something unreachable and to be worshipped. They never saw eye to eye on her.

In the end, the thought of Mary only brought Dean pain and resentment. He childishly blamed her for everything, from his lost childhood to her leaving them all alone again, and she shouldered the blame, just like that. She did make the deal after all. He wants to think that what he said to her made things better, cleared the air somehow, but for what? He never got his mom back and that’s a fact.

He wonders if this was Amaras intention, maybe. Beings like that are almost always fucked up creatures that get off on watching people suffer.

Sam, in the other hand didn’t have a mom in the first place, so Mary was the closest thing he came to have one. And now she’s gone. Dean presses his head against the wall. He breaths in and knocks, this is still the only job he can’t mess up.

His brother is sitting in the bed, he doesn’t look up from the floor when he comes in.

“How are you taking it?” Dean asks. Sam already knows what he’s talking about. “I’m just so, tired,” Sam responds after a while. “I feel like I mourned myself dry.” His eyes look lost, Dean wishes he could be better at this.

“The worst part is, I can’t miss her, you know? She spent what? Two nights here? Then we couldn’t see her for weeks at a time. There’s nothing to miss.” Dean closes his eyes, it’s true. There’s still so much empty space where Mary should be. “I remember more of her from when I was four,” He says, laughing with no humor. “I’m sorry, Sam.” I’m sorry you didn’t know her like I did, I’m sorry she left us willingly this time, I’m sorry you never had a mother.

“I’m sorry too.” And it’s just the two of them again, this time with a fallen celestial. “We’ve done this before, Sam.” We can do it again. Sam nods.

Dean falls asleep with a picture of her on his pillow. He gave Sam the other ones.

 

 

It’s three am. He can’t sleep, the nightmare that woke him up wasn’t a nightmare, Mary is dead and so was Cas, he can still feel the burn of his grace, he can still hear his mother’s fists connecting on Lucifer’s face.

He chokes back a sob, wondering if it’s gonna be being four all over again, it’s basically the same thing, no body and just a vague memory of what happened. He couldn’t sleep for six days after the fire. He doesn’t remember much, just realizing that no one would tuck him in.

He’s already out of his room when he notices where he is going, Cas is already up. He is waiting in his doorway, like he knew he was coming, Dean’s dreams probably woke him up. They don’t speak, Dean closes the door after he comes in. They sit down in the floor, their backs against the bed. Side by side.

Cas presence is enough to calm him down. In silence they stay there, for hours or the whole night, they don’t care. Cas never asks anything from him, he doesn’t expect him to stay unaffected or to talk about it, and Dean has always let himself crumble around Cas, he doesn’t have to appear strong for him, he doesn’t have to take care of him, he can just have a friend.

Cas bandages press against Deans arm, Dean wants to tell him something, to talk about it. Even if it’s not necessary, this kind of silence is something new and he is wary of it. Until Cas rests his head against Deans shoulder, his hands stop shaking.

Cas falls asleep like that. Dean doesn’t return to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: wants to make longer chapters  
> also me: runs out of inspiration after 2000 words 
> 
> kudos and comments are always lovely
> 
> if u wanna see what i do when im putting off writing heres [my tumblr](http://i-drifting.tumblr.com/)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have a funeral, after a month, just the three of them. They tie the nightgown in which she showed up for the first time to her gun and drop it in the bottom of a lake that’s near the bunker, they wouldn’t burn any of her things. Dean can’t be sure but he thinks he sees Cas eyes water.
> 
> When it’s done Sam mutters something about being ready to heal, Dean actually agrees with him on that.

It´s been two weeks since Cas came back.

They are all laying low, mourning. It’s painful and endless and just when Dean thinks he can’t feel any worse something comes up. Once it’s a voicemail he hadn’t heard, just hearing her voice for thirty-six seconds is enough send him to the bottom of a bottle again, he passes out and wakes up somehow on his bed, cold fingers buried in his hair. He knows it’s Cas before he opens his eyes, he’s always there when he has a bad night. Dean should think about that, how it’s kind of a big deal but he can’t really care. The photos and videos on his phone, some notes in dad’s journal, her handwriting identical to Sam’s.

She haunts them. An unread text, a new email signed “I love you, boys.” Her cellphone, her clothes, her weapons.

Dean wants to stop finding her and yet he desperately looks everywhere for more.

Cas helps. He listens to Sam ramble on the library, also drunk, about Mary. He stubbornly pours Dean’s bottle of whisky down the kitchen sink three different times. He tells them the story of how they looked everywhere for them when they were locked up. He shares what he remembers and tells them that if any of them are going to heaven it’s gonna be Mary.

It’s better than last time, with him here. Cause Sam and Dean don’t have to choose their words when talking about her, they don’t tip toe around conversations of her. Cas lets them scream, lets them punch walls and break shit. He lets them be. It helps more than Dean thought.

They have a funeral, after a month, just the three of them. They tie the nightgown in which she showed up for the first time to her gun and drop it in the bottom of a lake that’s near the bunker, they wouldn’t burn any of her things. Dean can’t be sure but he thinks he sees Cas eyes water.

When it’s done Sam mutters something about being ready to heal, Dean actually agrees with him on that.

 

 

It’s been a month and a half, a whole month of only going out for a few hours a week, interacting with the same two people every single day and Dean’s beginning to think the guy from The Shining might had had a point.

Cas is unbearable on the mornings, he only helps to cook but not to clean up, plus he uses all of the freaking hot water. He stays up inhumanly late which wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t blast his mixtape at full volume the whole time. (Alright he gets a pass on that one.)

Dean thought he was used to Sam but never to this extent. If someone ever calls Dean the slob of the two, he’s gonna shoot them. It would be okay, he was used to it, but it’s three of them now. Which means more laundry, more food and way more chores. Sam is apparently oblivious to this fact and continues to be a dick who doesn’t put back the books he takes (Cas is beginning to follow his example) only makes his bed and waters his own plants.

So, they have a little cabin fever.

It’s surprising it took this long but after six weeks and four days Sam mentions hunting.

He does it all casual like. “Hm, there’s a guy who had his heart ripped out last week,” he says and flips the newspaper page innocently. Dean immediately perks up. “The moon phases align,” Cas comments taking a sip of his coffee. “Where?” Dean asks with an uninterested tone, since they are all still pretending being locked underground is an amazing vacation.

“Utah,” Sam answers giving him a nervous look. He sighs and puts his toast down very carefully, here we go. “It’s just that… Cas doesn’t know how to hunt, and your soul condition? We don’t know is you can hunt either.” He avoids looking up from his coffee mug which is a smart move since both Dean and Cas are looking at him like he just insulted them.

Cas glares at his plate and mutters “Humans, I was hunting before they walked upright.” Dean laughs hard “You know we’re right here.” Cas looks up like someone splashed him with water, Sam stares at him like he grew another head. 

“What?” Cas squints at him, “Dean, you understood what I said and replied in flawless enochian.” Sam’s eyes widen even more. “What? Dean is fluent in enochian? That’s so unfair! I always wanted you to teach me,” Sam says looking like a spoiled kid who got denied ice cream. “Why is it always Dean?” He adds on his obnoxious teasing voice.

“Sam, I didn’t teach him! And you never told me you wanted to learn,” Cas explains, the poor guy probably thinks he hurt Sam’s feelings. “Dude he’s joking,” Dean chuckles and Cas visibly relaxes. “And yeah apparently the whole soul thing-“

“The soul bond,” Cas interrupts, Sam chokes in his coffee, rising his eyebrows at Dean. God he’s gonna kill him. “Whatever, lets us um share personal things.” Dean takes a long sip of his orange juice and avoids eye contact with any of them.

“So, what did he say?” Sam asks him. Cas throws him a pleading look, Dean smiles and holds his stare “He said you’re an asshole and that he’s a better fighter than yo- Ow!” He grabs his leg and tries to kick Cas back but he’s already moved to the next seat. “I did not say that!” He exclaims.

“It’s okay, Cas. I forgive you, but only because you kicked Dean.” Dean flips him off. “It’s amazing, I have to admit I’m a bit jealous. Sharing knowledge with an angel? Awesome.” Dean wants to tell him how awesome he felt when the spell almost burnt his soul out but he holds his tongue.

Cas is so flustered by Sam’s compliment Dean forgives the guy too. “Uh Thank you, Sam. But it’s less than knowledge and more like sharing an essence. Enochian is what I was made to speak so it’s a part of what I am.” Sam nods. “Still cool.”

“And if you really want, I could teach you too. It might be easier with Dean helping translate.” Sam smiles extremely wide and nods.

“Anyways, I hate to agree with Sam, Cas no offense but you really don’t know how to fight. Lets face it, you relied on your grace and even then you were extremely reckless,” He points out which only earns him another glare, he’s wanted to say that since they had a fight that quickly went south with a dozen demons a few months ago.

Dean had a leg broken, he laid on the dirty warehouse floor bleeding from a knife that managed to get close to his neck. He felt like passing out but he tried to get up three times and failed every one of them. He wanted so bad to help, they had already taken down four but the remaining eight were being very difficult.

Sam was yelling at him to stay still while he tried to fight two of them. Cas was fighting six at once. One had an angel blade.

He watched Cas, hypnotized by how he assessed every demon. They crowed around him, the one with the blade in the middle, they were backing him into a corner. He struck fast and brutally, throwing his blade at the chest of the one on his far right. Dean realized too late that she was gonna grab him from behind, but Cas had noticed on time. One lunged, Cas had no weapon and was already running low on energy, smiting two demons at the beginning had left him drained.

Still Dean would have thought he was a high command angel with all the grace he could possibly need by the way he fought, he didn’t let his vulnerability show. He looked almost bored. He braced for the demons attempt at tackling him and met him halfway with a punch so swift he could have easily broken his neck.

One at his left took his chance, Cas jumped back a few feet, he landed at the feet of the first one, he pulled his blade out of her chest. He jumped towards the one holding the other blade, surprising him so bad he barely had time to intercept the stab coming at his neck. Cas broke his knee and the guy fell, but not before he was stabbed on the head.

A scream came from Sam’s side, he had killed the first one. One to go.

The ones fighting the angel were beginning to realize their situation, the guy who had gotten his teeth punched in stood up, spit blood in Cas direction and glanced at the others.

The demons understood, one ran towards Cas while the second one appeared behind him at the same time. Dean saw his eyes widen, his blade dropped to the floor when the one in the front kneed him in the stomach. Too late he looked for the missing one, he was running towards him, Dean couldn’t stand up.

He hard Sam yell something that sounded like his name and heard Cas do the same. Dean gripped Ruby’s knife, waiting. “Dean!” Cas sounded desperate. Dean took a quick look; the first demon had already grabbed his blade and was prepared to swing. Cas eyes grew cold, he turned around with all his strength, which was considerable, white light erupted from his upper arm and he screamed but the woman holding him in place got the worst of it. Cas had spun her around so she was at the end of the blade, which dug into her side. She dropped dead.

The first demon was thrown off, Cas took the opportunity to shove him away, hard. He flew back at least seven feet.

Dean’s enemy was alarmingly close, but Cas has always been fast.

This time it was clear he had no strategy, he launched himself at the guy. He landed on top of him, pinning him down with a knee under his chin. He looked like the fight was finally getting to him. His eyes were wild and his fists missed the face of the demon a couple of times.

“Cas!” Dean exclaimed, he threw the knife across the floor, Cas picked it up. The guy screamed and went limp.

Cas ran over to him even when the danger had passed. Sam had killed the remaining bad guys. “Dean,” Cas whispered leaning over him, his voice was filled with worry. “You fight like an animal,” Dean said, passing out. He woke up on the way to the car which was three miles away, Cas was too exhausted to heal him right away so he was being carried bridal style. Deans leg burned so bad he couldn’t even complain.

“Hey,” He mumbled against Cas ripped coat. “Hello, Dean.” Cas seemed drained but he still wouldn’t let him walk at all. “What would we do without you?” Dean asked him, Cas smiled briefly. Dean rested his head on Cas shoulder and passed out again.

They didn’t take demon cases for a couple of weeks after that.

 

 

Dean remembered that day often, he had knew that Cas was a very good strategist, he fought with everything and some more. But he was emotional and he became quickly compromised and reckless. They really had a lot in common.

“You need to become used to fighting in a human way, I don’t want you to face a vamp and just press your hand against their forehead,” Dean teased. “That was one time! Six years ago! Plus, he got so distracted you could easily cut his head off.” Cas glared at him. “Although I suppose you’re right,” He sighed. “I do need to get used to, this” gesturing to his body and taking a resigned sip out of his cup.

“Don’t worry, Cas. You already know the basics, we can teach you the rest here. Guns, knives the other stuff.” Sam already had his ‘compassionate’ voice on. “Hey, we could all spar in the gym.”

“We have a gym?” Cas and Dean asked at the same time. “You need to stop doing that, it freaks me out.” Sam backed his chair away from them a little. “And yes, people who have lived here for years. We have a gym.”

And that’s how the rest of the day starts. The beginning of the end.

Turns out the gym is an eight-minute walk from the library which, what the hell, Dean didn’t know how huge this place really is. Its old and large, like everything around here. With mirrors glued to the largest wall, some set of weights along with their lifting boards, punching bags and a huge training mat that covers almost half of the room. Oh, this is gonna be fun.

It’s not.

It starts well. Sam and Dean teach Cas how to properly shape his fists so he doesn’t hurt himself while punching people, how to stand so it’s harder for someone to tackle you, which blows hurt the hardest and how to block them, etc. Basically, what they learned in second grade.

Cas is a quick learner, he lands hits solidly, he gets out of choke holds with ease. He’s good, Dean can easily see Cas hunting.

Sam suggests starting to spar. “Watch and learn.” Dean grins smugly and steps into the mat.

It should be considered that Sam is a fucking giant who does cardio for fun, but Dean has been in more fights. He runs straight at him, going for his stomach, Sam turns his body around. Dean manages to catch his arm and decides in the spur of the moment to judo flip his 6’2 little brother.

He does. Sam is so stunned he doesn’t even complain about being fucking slammed full force in the back. When he gets his breath back he practically yells “What the fuck?!” Dean wishes he knew how to answer. He glances at Cas who is already looking at him, his eyes wide with surprise. “Sam, oh my god I’m so sorry,” Dean stammers. “I don’t know how I did that.” It’s the truth, Dean is in no condition to toss people around, hell this morning he didn’t even know he had a gym.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Sam says. “It was pretty fucking cool.”

“Right?!” Now that he’s sure Sam is okay he can begin to boast about the fact that he can finally beat his little brother in a wrestling match again. (Dean is not petty about how much Sam grew over him, he’s really not.)

“Alright let’s go again,” Sam declares. “This time I won’t hold back. Now that I know you’re not as old as you seem.” And It’s on.

It’s a blur of dirty tricks and low blows. They are brothers after all.

Dean puts Sam in a chokehold and lets go when Sam licks his arm, Sam has Dean pinned down and gets a knee to the crotch, the usual. It’s clear that Dean is stronger than he was a week ago, but neither of them care too much to think about why. They are both too stubborn to admit they are tired until Cas intervenes.

“You both have a very special fighting style,” he says pulling Dean off Sams legs, whiles he’s trying to stand up. “It’s how we’ve stayed alive,” Sam explains.

“My turn.” Cas looks honest to god excited.

It’s him and Sam the first round, Dean stays in the sidelines looking for faults in Cas’ movements.

Again, Dean’s taken back from how good Cas is. He moves fast and certain, he’s absolutely unpredictable. ‘Like a storm’ Dean thinks. He’s too much on the offence, relaying on the fact that speed and surprise will be enough. He throws punches but doesn’t block them. Dean realizes that Cas’ priority is to kill his opponent as fast as possible, not protect himself.

Cas kicks Sam’s legs from under him two times, which sends him down, but Cas still having trouble with keeping him in the floor for long. When he notices Sam starts expecting it, he goes for his knees instead, they buckle but Sam doesn’t fall. Cas still takes advantage of his lack of equilibrium and throws a punch to his chest. Sam grabs Cas’ arm midway, Cas looks surprised. Dean can almost feel how he remembers that he’s not an angel anymore, but it doesn’t distract him for long. Sam regains balance, he throws a kick to Cas torso. Cas turns to avoid it, too fast, he loses stability and Sam tackles him. He ends up sitting over Cas’ thighs holding him in place. Cas sighs and taps out.

Dean points out his observations at him when Cas asks how did he do. “Hey. there’s something that’s called defense maybe you’ve heard of it,” Dean says as Cas rolls his eyes. “Seriously, man. You’re too direct.”

“Maybe you’re not direct enough,” Cas mutters, Sam laughs into his bottle of water and steps in, which is a blessing since Dean did not have a comeback for that one. “Please not again, your bickering like a married couple is always fun, but over the course of the whole month it’s become overplayed.” Sam rises a finger when they try to object. “Now, settle it in the ring.”

“Screw you, coach.” Dean tosses his bottle at Sams face, he misses, but still steps into the mat.

Cas is trying to intimidate him. He has the whole ‘divine wrath’ look going, Dean has been in the end of that glare too many times to care. They slowly walk in a circle, seizing each other up. Dean squares his shoulders and lets his smile vanish.

He hears Sam whisper “This is gonna be good.” But he refuses to turn away from Cas. The angels’ eyes won’t stop moving across Deans body, looking for an opening or weakness.

He finds it. He lunges at him, Dean is ready for Cas speed, moving out of the way just in time. He turns, throws a punch at Cas’ who apparently listened to him and blocks with his arm. As unexpected as always Cas throws a kick to Deans stomach, he grunts but stays in place.

Dean needs impulse to take Cas down, as plain as he looks on Deans oversized shirt the guy is strong and well built.

Cas still throwing punches too fast for Dean to throw them back, busy on defense, Cas looks focused but smug. Oh, he’s getting cocky, thinking that just because Dean is practically his height he has the advantage. And the thing is Dean is also used to Cas having the advantage, his super strength and unhuman speed. But he doesn’t have them anymore.

As soon as Dean remembers this the fight starts going his way. Cas is too taken back by Deans change in style. He puts space between himself and Dean, keeping him at arm’s length. The punches connect with each other in their own rhythm. Dean feels like they’re dancing.

The way he ducks and Cas swings, the way they turn their body against each other. Finally, he sees an opportunity. He backs up a couple of steps and dives. They go down. Cas surprise wears off quickly, he starts looking for ways of turning them around so he’s on top. He frees his arm from Dean’s grasp, he gets him in his inner elbow so his other arm bends. Cas propels his hips, rolling them in the mat.

Before he gets above Dean, he lets Cas go and tries to back away. Cas is having none of this. He crawls after him, tackling him. He lands above him, spreads Deans legs with his own so he can’t find his footing. Cas is breathing heavily, his arms grabbing Deans and the fucker is grinning. Dean has no exit and he knows it.

He notices how close Cas is, he can feel the heat radiating of his skin, how his chest is heavy and solid on top of him, how his hipbones are pressing into Deans. Suddenly the gym feels way hotter, the lights flicker. Cas doesn’t seem to notice, his eyes (that look so damn blue from up close) have a look on them that Dean hadn’t seen in a long time.

Dean notices that Cas leg is shaking, he’s losing stability. Before Dean can react Cas fully collapses on top of him, his hips grinding into Deans crotch, he whimpers softly. The lights burn so bright they might burst.

Cas, the motherfucker smirks and says, “I win.”

Dean is gonna die in this gym mat. At least he hopes he does. But Sam clears his throat and that snaps him out of it.

Cas rolls off him, landing next to him. He closes his eyes and gasps for breath, his skin shines with sweat and energy. Dean needs to leave immediately.

Sam looks as uncomfortable as Dean feels but he stays, leaving would probably make it worse. “Very good first day,” He mutters to no one in particular, Dean is still looking at Cas who hasn’t opened his eyes but is still smiling. “First?!” Dean asks still a little panicked. “Dude I never wanna be in this gym again but Cas is gotta train more, look at him.” The problem is that Dean can’t stop looking at him, Cas looks wrecked.

“Yeah, I know.” He sighs and tries to stand up without his pants getting to close to the, uh situation. “You won but you sure look like I did,” Dean points out. “You okay?”

“Shut up, Dean.” Cas finally opens his eyes, they still have that wild look in them. Dean wants to see it more often.

“I call the first shower,” Sam says. They all have different bathrooms but the hot water doesn’t know that. “Second,” Cas claims. “Fuck, no. You use up all the warm water,” Dean argues. “Well to me it looks like you could use a cold shower, Dean.” Sam says and slips out of the room.

“Why?” Cas asks cause no one ever has mercy on him.

 

 

They all eat on the kitchen to go over the case. “I’m just gonna go ahead and say it. I don’t think you two should go.” Sam looks at them, Cas has changed into another of Deans shirts and is laying his head on the kitchen table, too tired to argue, Dean is putting as much space as possible between them. They all know Sam’s right. Dean can’t control the energy him and Cas share at all and Cas is already asleep in the table.

“Alright,” Dean gives in. “But if it’s more than one, you call us.” Sam agrees, he’s leaving in the morning.

It’ll just be him and Cas for almost a week. Great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writer blocks are the fucking worst and i wanna cry. fighting scenes are so hard im sorry if you dont know whats going on but clearly i dont either. Also this is longer!!! (validate me for doing the bare minimum please) 
> 
> i know the tones in this chapter are um wildly different but i didnt wanna make it sadder than it needed to be
> 
> if you want to heres [my tumblr](http://i-drifting.tumblr.com/) im literally always there
> 
> hopefully the new chapter will take less time, thanks for reading. Kudos and comments mean the world to me <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And okay, Deans has had mixed emotions about Cas practically since he met him. He was breathtaking in every single way, the most powerful creature Dean had ever met, and yet he became their friend, Deans best one in all his life. He didn’t make things easier for him either. Giving up everything for him and more. After purgatory Dean realized what it really was, but he would never act on it. He could never put himself and his relationship with Cas on the line.
> 
> Besides Cas was always so temporary, one day here the next gone for months, or dead. The fact that he keeps coming to them, after all they’ve been through and against every fucking odd, makes things complicated. Dean couldn’t kill his feeling, not really. He just learned to live with them.

The first day runs smoothly, Cas and he eat together but other than that no interaction. 

Dean is relived to say the least, the incident in the gym left him really freaking unsettled. Did Cas notice Deans boner while they were wrestling? Is arousal even a feeling he can share through their ‘bond’? Excitement, surprise, grief and confusion are things they both pick up on when the other feels them. So, Deans is hoping his outburst while fighting got blurred between the adrenaline.

And okay, Deans has had mixed emotions about Cas practically since he met him. He was breathtaking in every single way, the most powerful creature Dean had ever met, and yet he became their friend, Deans best one in all his life. He didn’t make things easier for him either. Giving up everything for him and more. After purgatory Dean realized what it really was, but he would never act on it. He could never put himself and his relationship with Cas on the line.

Besides Cas was always so temporary, one day here the next gone for months, or dead. The fact that he keeps coming to them, after all they’ve been through and against every fucking odd, makes things complicated. Dean couldn’t kill his feeling, not really. He just learned to live with them.

Yeah, it hurts almost as bad as hell, cause Cas is Cas and Dean never stood a chance against him. And now he has to share his literal soul and emotions with him. The worst thing is that Dean doesn’t mind in the slightest. He’d rather die than have him gone again.

Sam reports twice and tell them that the werewolf is moving quickly, the killings are getting more frequent and more careless, the case might be easier than expected, other than that is just them.

Dean tries to keep more distance between them, the whole month he hadn’t realized how much closer they have become. They were always looking for each other before but now they lean towards the other like Sam’s plants lean towards the little sunshine they get from the garages window. It unsettles Dean a little, he has to remind himself that Cas isn’t leaving this time. That Cas cannot leave him even if he wanted too.

That thought also unsettles him.

Cas doesn’t seem to get the message, in the second afternoon he walks into Deans room like it’s his, pulls out the chair to read his latest Harry Potter book. After a while he decides that he wants to train more. “God, no. I’ve heard you complain about how sore you were all afternoon,” Dean groans. “That’s why I want to train,” Cas explains. “I need to be able to fight again.” He looks at the floor and Dean gets an echo of Cas’ frustration.

“You don’t,” Dean says. “Need to fight, I mean. You could stop if you wanted to.” The message he’s trying to get across is ‘you don’t need to be useful.’ Cas sighs “You could stay here, visit Claire, man the base.” ‘you don’t need to be useful to stay.’

“I don’t know anything besides fighting.” Cas looks at him. “I was created for it.” Just like Dean and Sam. “Alright.” Dean gives in cause he knows the only thing his family has left is fighting.

They head to the gym in silence.

When Cas was falling, truly falling. When he had given up on God and his hopeless search, he came to Dean one night. They were alone on a motel room, Sam was out researching. It was just after he had gotten biblically drunk, he asked Dean how he had dealt with his dad leaving him and Sam behind. “I didn’t,” Dean told him, and Cas smiled cynically. “Keep yourself busy, Cas,” Dean said, Cas nodded and disappeared.

He thinks of that a lot, Cas asked him, still does, all of his questions. Dean probably should’ve set a better example. “You too are so damn similar,” Sam had told him once in attempt to piss him off. They were fighting. “Perfect soldiers,” He spat out.

He was right once upon a time, but he and Cas had burned every single order they were given after a while. Maybe that’s why they are such good friends.

“Okay, show me your best, angel,” Dean teases when they arrive. Cas raises an eyebrow and lunges.

They go at it for almost an hour this time, Dean tries to stay concentrated on Cas faults, his guard is still too low, instead of on his strong arms that seemed to burn him whenever Cas tried to hold him on a head lock. Or on his back that is obscenely board. He isn’t really paying attention. Until he’s punched in the mouth.

“Ah, what the fuck?!” He yells, Cas shrugs. “It’s called defense maybe you’ve heard of it.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes.” He spits out some blood. “But since you’re so eager.” Dean dives and pins Cas down almost immediately. “Better luck next time, angel.”

Cas rolls his eyes “Get off me,” he demands. Shoving Dean away. Dean is tossed back, hard. He loses his breath for a few seconds. “Whoa.” He coughs, grabbing his chest.

Cas is almost as stunned as him. “Dean, do you remember when you threw Sam the other?”

“Yeah, kinda hard to forget” he mutters. “I think we both might be, stronger.” Cas gets up and helps Dean stand, looking at him with a lot of interest. “Maybe my grace and your soul created a strong connection, strong enough that it affects us even physically,” he says.

“…What?”

“Like I said before a connection like ours is unprecedented, our circumstances are completely new,” Cas explains. “We both might be practically human but there’s a chance we’re a little more.” Dean sighs, lately he needed less sleep, he had more energy, his thoughts weren’t just his anymore, he feels, more complete.

“So, you’re saying we have, what? Superpowers or something?” He laughs nervously. “No,” Cas says, his tone conveying how hard he’s trying to not slap Dean “I’m saying that a human soul mixed with angelic grace, as weak as the grace might have been, create a powerful energy. And it affects us in more levels than I expected.” 

“Great,” Dean murmurs.

“I’m sorry”.

“Stop apologizing, man.” Dean reaches out, placing his hand on Cas shoulder. “We just need time to get used to it.”

They are too tired to cook dinner so they head to town to pick up something. Cas always insists on driving and Dean always tells him to get his own car. Cas is still new at practically everything so the three of them always look for something he hasn’t had yet. The guy pretty much eats everything if he’s hungry enough but he’s still weak for Dean’s favorites, Diner burgers. And because Sam isn’t here to stop them they order three, one and a half for each, and two large fries. It’s become an habit for them, sharing. Their clothes, their food, everything.

Cas has no social boundaries so he didn’t change out of his angel pajamas that Dean bought him as a joke (he looked everywhere for them in the end he had to order them of amazon) even though its five in the afternoon. (“Please just-” “What? They are still pants, it’s not like I’m going in my underwear, Dean”)

Cas has this ongoing thing with ordering a different drink every time they go out. He hates soda and sparkling water with passion, his favorites so far are milkshakes. Dean orders a beer.

“Has Sam reported again?” Cas asks between mouthfuls of fries.

“Nope,” Dean answers. “He said everything’s been quiet since yesterday.”

“It’s probably the new bartender,” Cas comments. “Nah, it’s definitely the chick who disappeared that night, the victim was last seen leaving with her,” Dean argues.

“But she’s been in town for three months and no weird killings had occurred.”

“Yeah, but the bartender has a solid alibi.” Cas rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t mean anything half of the time,” he says.

“Who’s been doing this for longer? Hm? Me.” Dean avoids Cas’ hand slap when he takes a sip of his vanilla milkshake. “And I say it’s the girl. She went underground and no one has seen her since, doesn’t seem like an innocent behavior,” Dean concludes.

“Yeah okay,” Cas says. He picked up Sams habit of agreeing with Dean while actually going against him and it drives him insane. “Alright, if you’re so sure lets make it interesting, hm?” Dean fishes his car keys out of his pocket and dangles them in front of Cas face. “If it’s the bartender, you drive us everywhere for a week.” Cas squints at him suspiciously. “And if it’s not the bartender?” he asks.

“Then I’ll make you another mixtape,” Dean proposes. Cas scoffs, and tilts his head to the side. “Hey, those things are pain to make! And you love the one you have!” As soon as he says it he’s blushing, he spent almost a week making the first, sneaking around so Sam wouldn’t bother him about it.

“I do. Love it,” Cas admits in a shy voice. Dean grins at the table. “Oh really? I wouldn’t have guessed, it’s not like you play it every night at one am.” Cas looks down. “Can’t really sleep,” he mutters. “It calms me down.”

“Oh.” Dean knows, he feels Cas wake up always abruptly, always on alert. He knows it’s a nightmare or a memory. He has tried to ask him about it, but he’s never been good at the whole ‘communication’ thing.

“I know,” Dean admits. “I fee-have them too,” When they’re truly bad he sometimes finds himself outside Cas door, he never knocks but Cas always opens. “You could, I mean, if you want we could talk about it, or not.”

“Maybe,” Cas says, he’s still learning about emotions and how to keep them from fucking up your life, but he opens up easier than Dean. “Stop stealing my fries.”

Dean wants to keep the conversation going, to tell Cas that he’ll get used to it (until something gives you reasons to have more sleepless nights that is) that he can also go looking for him, but the timing doesn’t really let him. It never does.

He constantly has to remind himself that Cas doesn’t come to him for help cause Cas doesn’t really know when he needs help. He knows that the beginnings of their friendship were based on Dean asking Cas favors once a week, he knows that he beat him half to death a few years back, that he kicked him out with no explanation when Cas had nothing, it’s kinda hard to forget stuff like that.

He also knows that Cas died in front of him less than three months ago.

Dean knows he never got to talk to him about The Mark, or Lucifer or God or anything that truly mattered for so long. He won’t ever let that happen again.

It’s hard, Cas betrayed the too, he beat him senseless too, he ran away, he stopped talking to them too. He didn’t tell Dean about his plan to stay behind in purgatory. He abandoned him too.

Dean wants to tell him, he needs Cas to know everything, maybe it’s the damned bond or his recent passing but Dean knows that he can’t keep doing this much longer. Cas needs to know where they stand. This is his last chance, he thinks as he steals another fry, throwing a sad glance at his friend across the booth.

They get home, Cas nodded off a few miles back. Dean breaths deeply when he realizes. ‘He’s just asleep,’ he thinks ‘it’s okay.’ He closes the door and Cas stirs. “Are you okay?” Cas asks because he always does. “It’s still shocking, watching you sleep.” Cas shoots him a look. “I thought you said it was ‘creepy’ watching people sleep,” he says walking out of the garage. “Not like that!” Cas chuckles.

They have lemon pie and fries for dinner, Cas looks like his nap wasn’t enough, the bags under his eyes seem more pronounced lately. Right now, he looks like he might fall asleep on the kitchen floor.

Dean wants to help him but he doesn’t know if Cas wants it, he’s still sort of embarrassed when it comes to his human needs. He gets an idea, when Sam started hunting he would wake up in the middle of the night almost six times a week, he would check the motel windows and door to see if the salt line were alright, if their weapons were loaded. He wouldn’t go to sleep after that. “Wanna watch a movie?” Dean offers. Cas nods sleepily.

They go into the adapted ‘tv room’, Dean expands the couch so Cas can lie down. He falls asleep in less than an hour, Dean stays in his chair. They both sleep through the night.

 

 

They wake up when Deans cell rings past eleven, it’s Sam. Cas tosses and tries to throw a shoe at the phone. “Turn it off,” he says groaning. “It’s a new phone you dick!” he answers the call “What?”

“Dude it’s almost noon were you still asleep?” Sams annoying voice is not a great thing to wake up to, Dean is tempted to hang up. “Let me sleep,” Cas complains. Dean shows him a finger but he still gets out of the room. “Was that Cas?” Sam asks, Dean can practically see him rising an eyebrow. “Fuck you, what do you want?”

“Whoa, rough night?” Good thing he won’t be back for a few more days so Dean can put time into finding a way to fuck with his stuff. “I’m hanging up.”

“Okay, okay. Nothing just someone reported another missing person near the bar, I went to check it out but it was a bust,” Sam sounds better, like he’s almost content. “I can’t keep waiting for more people to disappear until I get lucky, I’m thinking I might set them up.”

“How exactly?” 

“Bait?” He answers but it’s not really a suggestion, Sam is probably already there. “Oh, I wonder who could that be?”

“Dean look-”

“No, Sam. We don’t know if it’s more than one wolf, we don’t know where it’s taking the victims and we don’t know who it is. I don’t wanna drive eight hours to find you death. I have plans tomorrow.” Dean interrupts. “Oh! I see, do these plans involve someone whose name starts with C?”

“You know what? I hope that thing kills you, bye.” He’s about to hang up so he doesn’t have to listen to Sam obnoxious laugh anymore when he says “Alright sorry it’s just that you’re too easy. Anyways, Dean I’m sure it’s a single one and about where it’s taking the victims I know that too. There’s three abandoned cabins in the woods near the bar. I’m gonna go take a walk there. I’ll send you my location just in case.” Dean sighs, he truly hates staying back. “Just be careful, please.”

His phone buzzes with Sams coordinates. “I will be, call you when I can.” He hangs up.

He walks back into the room where Cas wasted no time going back to sleep, he throws him the shoe. It lands on his back, Cas groans. “C’mon Sunshine it’s almost noon.” Cas groans louder. “Time isn’t real I thought you knew that,” he mutters, face down on the couch.

“Okay but I’m eating all the pancakes,” Dean shouts down the hallway. Not even a full minute later Cas catches up to him. “There’s pancakes?”

“Yeah, to be made, help me with the batter,” Dean says. “I hate you.” Cas glares at him but he goes and gets the eggs.

After breakfast Cas still wants to take a nap. “You seriously can’t keep sleeping like that,” Dean says. “I don’t think it’s good for you.”

“There’s nothing else to do, Dean,” Cas whines. “Sure there is, c’mon.” He leads them down the hallway towards the shooting range. Cas mood shifts immediately. “Here. Watch me.” Dean shoots three times perfectly. “Now you do it.” He hands Cas his gun.

Cas looks like the first time he got behind the wheel, Dean hopes this doesn’t go like that. He stands correctly but his grip is wrong, Dean takes his hand and arranges it properly. “Careful with the kick,” he tells him. “Just even your breath.” Cas pulls the trigger, missing the target completely. He bites his lip and tries again.

By the time the gun is empty there’s a new hole on the target and a lot more on the walls, two in the ceiling and one on the floor. “I think I’ll continue with blades,” Cas admits. “The hell you will, you need to get too close to use them. Look it’s just-“ Dean moves to stand close behind him. He presses himself against Cas’ back, he lines up the angels’ arms with his, guiding his hands. “Don’t think too much,” he whispers against his ear. The lights dim, they both ignore it.

Cas shoots. Dean feels Cas body lean back against him. The bullet hits the target, where the persons shoulder would be. Cas looks over to him, satisfaction clear on his face. Dean quickly takes several steps back, trying to keep himself from blushing. “See it’s not that hard.” Shit what was he even doing? Cas as usual, doesn’t notice and continues shooting.

When they’re done Cas has hit bullseye three times.

“Thank you,” he says when he gives Dean his gun back. Dean shakes his head. “Keep practicing with it, we’ll find you one later.” Cas squints at him. “Are you sure? Sam said you don’t like sharing it.”

“Yeah but it’s you,” Dean blurts out before he stops himself. “I mean, you’re learning right?”

Cas raises an eyebrow playfully, but he keeps the gun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> newsflash: this fic is completly self indulgent.
> 
> its also become a slowburn cause these two are horrible and i hate them. 
> 
> place ur bets is it the girl or the bartender??? ((ik im taking too damn long between updates and this sort of a filler [sorry]))
> 
> kudos and comments give me life. heres [my tumblr](http://i-drifting.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why are we here?” Cas wonders, looking as out of place as always. “It was close by and I have a theory,” Dean replies. “Which is?”
> 
> “I think that I can officially outdrink you now.” Cas frowns, he never really understood why drinking was a thing people do. “C’mon it will be fun! I’ve never seen you drunk!”
> 
> “Sam tells me it’s quite amusing,” Cas admits. “I still don’t understand the appeal.”
> 
> “Oh, you will.” Dean signals at the waitress. “Four shots of tequila please.”

Sam calls the next day, it was the bartender. “Goddamn it!”

“What?” Sam asks, his voice muffled by the wind of the highway, he’s already on his way back. “We had a bet,” Cas chimes in. “I won.” Dean can’t stand looking at his smug grin. “I’m glad you were betting on human lives.”

“Don’t ruin this for me, Sam.” Cas picks up the phone. “Although I’m very glad you were able to save the girl.” Dean rolls his eyes. “Alright, angel give me the phone back.”

“I guess you’re coming back tomorrow, Sam?” Cas asks, ignoring Dean completely. “Yeah, see you tomorrow. Don’t have fun in places I use, bye.” Cas tilts his head on Deans direction, he’s already out of the room.

After training and lunch, Dean finds Cas reading a book, his leg bouncing up and down. Dean knows how he feels, they’ve spent too much time literally underground, he’s probably rewatched all his series twice. If he still can’t hunt next month he’s gonna lose it. He can’t imagine how Cas feels, there was a time where he could be anywhere or whenever he wanted. Now he can’t walk twenty miles without needing to rest. He wonders if that’s as awful as it sounds.

“What are you reading?” He sits on the chair next to Cas. “Angels- File one hundred and four,” he replies, not looking up. “Haven’t you read all those, like three times?”

“They are amusing.”

“You know what? I think I’m going insane,” Cas squints at him, turning his chair so they are face to face. “Again?” he asks dead serious. “I don’t even know why I talk to you, but yes I can’t stand this whole ‘quarantine’ thing, like we’re some ticking bomb. Let’s do something,” Dean replies standing up. Pulling Cas with him. “Like what?”

The bar Dean chose is better than most they usually stop by. Cas got lost three times on the way here. Dean’s never betting his Baby ever again. Although this time Cas actually bothered to change, he’s wearing some of Dean’s old jeans and the Led Zeppelin tshirt he officially stole from Deans closet. He claims it’s his now. (“You never use it, I do.”) Dean looks the same, only his shirt is black. They sit in a booth in the back.

“Why are we here?” Cas wonders, looking as out of place as always. “It was close by and I have a theory,” Dean replies. “Which is?”

“I think that I can officially outdrink you now.” Cas frowns, he never really understood why drinking was a thing people do. “C’mon it will be fun! I’ve never seen you drunk!”

“Sam tells me it’s quite amusing,” Cas admits. “I still don’t understand the appeal.”

“Oh, you will.” Dean signals at the waitress. “Four shots of tequila please.”

“I remember these,” Cas tells him, he takes the first and downs it quickly. Too quickly, when he’s finished coughing his lungs out he says. “They didn’t feel like this the last time, stop laughing.”

Dean tries but he can’t. “God this is what I’m talking about. But yeah, my bad. Maybe tequila wasn’t a good ‘first time as a human’ starter. Pick something from the menu if you want, I’ll finish these.”

Cas orders a ‘Strasberi.’ “You sure about that?” He nods. “I like strawberries.” Dean bites his lip. This is gonna be good. “Okay, you should know it’s eighty percent vodka.”

“So?” Cas asks. “Nothing.”

He likes it, a little too much. “I think I’m starting to get it,” he says, squinting like he’s concentrating. Dean laughs, those shots already got him relaxed and at ease. Cas orders another drink.

“How are you feeling?” Dean asks him when he’s half way through it. “I’m not sure.”

“That’s how you know it’s working.” Dean has settled for a beer, waiting to see how this night turns out. “I’ve always wanted to ask you; what color were your wings?” Cas snorts into his drink. Dean wonders if he touched a nerve but when he looks up Cas’ face shows humor. “They were black. Sometimes blue in some parts.”

“Blue suits you,” Dean blurts out. He can’t really see with the lighting in this place, he’s almost sure Cas is blushing.

Cas finishes his drink and the dam breaks. Dean had no idea Cas could say that many words in a day, he doesn’t even reply, he just listens. He talks about the flavor of his drink, about the bar, about how fast driving is so close to the real thing. He tells him about the greeks, how petty human wars are and how wrong Christmas is portrayed this century.

“It wasn’t that exciting,” he confesses. He orders a third drink. Some of his speech mixes into enochian. Dean knows that anything he asked would be answered honestly and he’s pretty drunk himself, he sneaked sips of Cas’ drink so the guy wouldn’t get drunk as quickly, that was a mistake.

“What’s your favorite thing of this human thing so far?” he asks him. “You,” Cas replies immediately. Dean doesn’t ask him anything else.

When he starts slurring his words Dean decides it’s time to go home. “I want another one,” he pleads. “I think you’ve had one too many, angel. Get in the car.”

“Give me keys.” He starts going around towards the pilot seat. “Yeah, sure thing, give the keys to the guy whose drunk for the second time in his life, sure.”

“We had a bet. I won,” he complains, his voice a little higher than usual. “Give me the keys.”

“Get in the car, Cas.” Cas flips him off, or at least he tries to. He uses the wrong finger. In the end, he’s too lazy to walk back to the passengers seat, he gets in the back behind Dean.

“Why do you get to drive? You had four bullets.”

“They’re called sh- whatever. I’m good at drunk driving, and you can’t even talk without mixing languages right now.” Cas sighs, he knows it’s true.

After a while of Cas tossing in the back, he starts humming the fifth song of the mixtape, Dean joins him. They end up singing the whole song aloud.

They arrive at the bunker, Cas can’t walk and Dean is tired. “For fuck’s sake, I’m not letting you sleep in the car you’ll throw up and guess who’s gonna have to clean it.”

“Technically I never learned how to walk,” Cas comments, leaning more than half his weight into Dean. “I just acquired a vessel that could. But this body is mine so I don’t really know how I walk most of the time.”

“Cas, honestly, what the fuck does anything you just said mean?” Dean is trying very hard to stop stumbling but it’s pretty hard when the floor blurs and Cas’ arms are around his neck, his strawberry breath so close to his neck. “I’ve thought about it,” he continues. “This body is mine, I was brought back to life in it, I didn’t need to ask permission to possess it. Also, last time I was in heaven. They told me my form resembled my vessel too much, that I was losing myself in it.” He stays quiet a couple of steps. “Maybe I did.”

“Maybe you found yourself or something,” Dean mumbles, God what the hell was in those drinks, it’s been so long since he got wasted of shots alone. “Maybe.”

“This is nice,” Cas whispers in his collar. “Fun?” He asks him, deciding that using his legs is too much effort, he would’ve fallen if it weren’t for Deans arm around his waist.

“For you maybe,” Dean grunts. “The hell you’ve been eating.”

“I’m tired,” Cas confesses. Dean could put more attention on keeping them standing but he’s too distracted to search for his new-found strength. He catches Cas’ eyes, they are staring at him with intensity and warmth? They are so bright, even when it’s almost three am and they haven’t turned on the lights. They remind him of the constellations he can see when they stop in the country side. Dean forgets what he’s doing. They both fall to the floor, he laughs hard.

“Man, what the hell?”

“Agh, what?” Cas face is still so close to him. He gets up after staring at him a little longer pulling Cas too. “C’mon, angel. Lets get you into bed.”

Cas’ room is still pretty bare. Apart from a notebook he keeps in case he starts forgetting his life (”Human minds can’t contain what I know” “Alright Mr. Philosopher, just keep your pretentious journal in your desk.”) and a cassette player, the room is empty. He drops Cas face first into his bed. He groans.

“I now understand why alcohol,” he mutters. “Does it make things easier for you too?”

“Easier in what way?”

“I don’t know, in the conversational way?” Cas sits up so he can look at him better.

“Yeah,” Dean admits. “I guess that’s why they call it liquid courage.”

Cas doesn’t answer him, he stares at him from his above since Dean sat in the floor next to his bed. How many nights he spent in that same spot, mourning his friend. Now he’s got him back and drunk, Dean stopped trying to make sense of his life a long time ago.

Cas inches closer to him, not really putting effort into sitting up. He gets so close Dean can feel the heat radiating off him. His hand starts to reach out, slow and hesitating. He buries his fingers into Deans hair, almost playing with it.

“Courage,” he whispers, so quietly it must have been to himself. “There’s still so much I want to tell you,” Cas confesses. Close and intimate. Dean knows this is bad. He’s seeing every single red flag that have accumulated throughout the night. Fuck it, when has he ever listened. “Like what?”

“I watched you rake leaves.”

Dean closes his eyes, leaning into Cas’ touch. “I wanted your help. I wanted a friend,” Cas continues. “You asked me where I was, I was there too.”

“I wanted to tell you, I wanted you to fight by my side again.” Cas voice drops low, Dean feels like he’s been set ablaze. “But I knew how much you had already lost, how much had been asked of you, I didn’t wanna be the one to ask for even more, I didn’t want to drag you back. You seemed at peace.” Dean knows of when he’s talking about, his chest feels tighter. He can’t tell if the feeling is his own. “That’s when Crowley found me.” He tells him about heaven, about his siblings looking for the chosen one, how Raphael beat him half to death. About another hopeless prayer.

He tells him about his epiphany, freedom and the length of rope.

When he’s done his speech blurs, his hand has gone still but it’s still there.

“I needed you too, back then,” Cas whispers. “I still do.”

They fall asleep like that.

Someone is playing with his hair. Which would be nice if he didn’t have the mother of all hangovers. His mouth is so dry and oh God his head is gonna kill him if his stomach doesn’t first.

“What the fuck?” Dean asks himself. He hasn’t been like this since he was in his teens.

“Don’t speak,” Cas replies. His eyes shut, looking like he wants to die. “I take it back, alcohol is the worst invention of mankind.”

“What the fuck?” Dean asks again. He tries to get up but the room spins. He’s never returning to that bar, the hell do they make their drinks with.

“Shhh.” Cas tries to pull him back down, the lamp at his bedside makes sparks fly. “Please don’t do that again,” he begs him. “I think I can feel everything right now.”

Realization hits Dean. Right, sharing emotions and whatever. Oh, this isn’t his hangover, it’s Cas’. He takes three deep breaths, trying to focus. The pain is his head eases a little and his stomach relaxes.

He’s still really fucking hammered. “Dude, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you drink so much your first time,” Dean apologizes. Cas glares at him.

“Now you feel the need to share this information?” Cas tries to sit up too. He violently puts a hand over his mouth. He inhales for a few seconds. “I’m okay, I’m okay, no. I’m not.”

“If you’re gonna throw up get in line.” Dean stands up, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. Two new messages from Sam. He’s about to open them when he hears steps down the hallway.

“Good morning, guys.” His brother practically shouts in his ear. They both moan simultaneously. “Wow, good to see you too,” Sam says. Dean watches his eyes go over the room. From the discarded jacket and shoes on the floor, to the unmade bed, to Cas who’s still laying face down in the middle of the matters, hair a mess. To Dean who looks and feels like roadkill. He smirks. “Did you have fun without me?”

“Fuck off, Sam.” Dean practically escapes Cas’ room. He hears Cas’ groans and Sams laugh echo down the hallway.

Breakfast consists of Cas and Dean groaning every time a spoon hits the edge of a mug and inhuman amounts of coffee. Sam tells him about his hunt, he laughs, teasing them at every opportunity. As much as Dean hates sound right now he’s relived and glad to watch his brother talk. He looks relaxed, less tired. Hunting always helped Sam. In healthy amounts.

Cas is still dead to the world, face down on the kitchen table. Only looking up to ingest more caffeine.

Dean can’t stop staring at him from across the kitchen, occasionally tuning Sam out. He remembers everything from last night despite almost being blackout drunk. ‘I needed you. I still.’ Just when things start going his way everything gets complicated. Again.

Dean knows those words, he’s only said them to two people in all his life. He wonders if Cas knows what he said means to him. Dean’s trying to look at this from an objective point of view. But he’s hangover and drunk at the same time, so.

“You guys really do look like shit,” Sam says taking his phone out and snapping a couple pictures of Cas. “What did you do?” He asks accusingly turning to Dean.

“Why do you assume it was me huh?” Dean glares at him.

“Cause it was,” Cas says, muffled by the table.

“I’m gone four days and you get the angel drunk.”

“We were bored.” Deans honestly too tired to defend himself, it’s two against one. “And that’s not everything we did, tell him, Cas.”

Cas looks up, glaring at Dean like everything bad that has ever happened to him it’s his fault, which. “He’s been teaching me how to shoot a weapon,” He tells Sam, who raises an eyebrow.

“How was it?” Sam finally drops the drunk thing.

“Could be better.” Dean still remembers the first time Cas shot bullseye, he was so excited he turned towards Dean to celebrate, swinging a loaded gun in front of his face. “He’s got potential,” he admits. Cas smiles for the first time all morning.

After that both Dean and Cas pass out on the couch, they tried and failed to distract themselves with some tv. Sams the one who probably turned it off. Dean wakes up with Cas leaning against him, his head resting on Deans shoulders, he doesn’t know how many hours have passed but it’s gotta be more than four. His neck is telling him that much. Dean sighs, he’s a good person, he doesn’t deserve this. But at least his headache is gone.

He stares down at Cas. Cas, who watched him rake leaves.

He wishes he was drunk again. He’s probably reading too much into this, getting his hopes up as usual. Just like he did the last time Cas confessed something to him. Back at Ramiels barn. Dean still has nightmares about that night. Still wakes up in cold sweat at Cas’ would-have-been last words. ‘I love you.’

Blackness creeping on his chest so quickly and painfully Dean didn’t know what to do, he froze. He remembers feeling like he couldn’t breathe. Promising himself that if Cas died then, he would tear the world down, starting with the princes of hell.

He looked at Dean when he said it, there’s no way he had imagined that.

And Dean believed him, he bought it. Hell, he made the guy a fucking mixtape after that. He got wasted that night and when Cas found him he got up from his bedroom floor, hugged him so tight Cas let out a surprised noise. “Don’t ever do that again,” Dean commanded him, his voice broke.

Cas hugged back almost as tightly, hiding his face in Deans exposed neck. “I won’t,” he promised.

But Cas disappeared for almost four months after that. He didn’t even text him back. He worked with angels, got himself brainwashed and goddamn died. Like purgatory all over again. Now he’s here, wearing Deans clothes, sleeping on his shoulder. Oh, and they are bonded for life.

Even if he wanted to, He could never get himself to tell Cas how he feels. But the revelation he had at the diner the other night still hasn’t let him alone. He needs Cas to know, if not everything at least some of it. He could live with that.

Yesterday still has him a little shaken, he wonders if Cas somehow had the same feeling of honesty. Why did he suddenly tell him all that? Dean feels bad about it, everything Cas went through… ‘I’m doing this for you, Dean. I’m doing this because of you.’ That makes a lot of sense now. He never did let Cas explain himself, he was so damn hurt and angry at himself for being hurt in the first place, he couldn’t take it.

He never told anyone but when he was there he felt trapped, like an exposed wire had found its way under his skin twenty-four seven. Jumping at every single noise. Too grounded, he only stayed there because of the promise he made. He knows that if Cas would have asked then, he would have gone anywhere with him.

He wonders about what could’ve been until Cas wakes up. If they only stopped being so fucking stubborn for five minutes Cas and him could’ve move continents. If he told him what would happen?

He’s yanked back to reality by Cas’ groaning. He stretches and yawns casually like Dean wasn’t having a crisis five seconds ago because of him. “What times is it?” He asks him, blinking sleep out of his blue eyes.

“I don’t know,” Dean answers.

He keeps stealing glances of him for the rest of the day. Since he came back he seems more relaxed, he doesn’t frown as much. Dean has always been hypnotized by Cas since he met him, always wary of observing for more than a few seconds.

Trough out the month he’s grown more comfortable around Cas, today his eyes linger more than usual. He holds himself like Sam and Dean do, his back hunched over but still alert. He smiles more easily now, at Sams conversation and at Dean, even when Dean doesn’t say anything. His eyes still shine the same.

Dean is so fucked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would die for drunk Cas anyways i just started school :// but ill try to keep updating um... often   
> thanks for reading, kudos and comments are the best
> 
> check out [my tumblr](http://i-drifting.tumblr.com/) if u want <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘This is bad’, he hears himself think for the one thousandth time. ‘This apocalyptically bad.’ And he actually has a reference point in that one.
> 
> He really didn’t see this coming, he should’ve, it was staring at him right in the face. From across the breakfast table, from across the library, from above him in the gym mat. It was breathing down his neck a few days ago, drunk and warm and so so so intoxicating. It was waking up next to him in the couch, with sleep clinging to his body, blue eyes flickering when they brushed against each other accidentally.

‘This is bad’, he hears himself think for the one thousandth time. ‘This apocalyptically bad.’ And he actually has a reference point in that one.

He really didn’t see this coming, he should’ve, it was staring at him right in the face. From across the breakfast table, from across the library, from above him in the gym mat. It was breathing down his neck a few days ago, drunk and warm and so so so intoxicating. It was waking up next to him in the couch, with sleep clinging to his body, blue eyes flickering when they brushed against each other accidentally.

It was sharing his drink with him at a diner, it was listening to his songs and driving his car. Wearing his clothes that fitted him loosely in all the right places. It was in his home. It was part of his soul.

He only really felt like this in purgatory, no inhibitions, nothing holding him back but the distance Cas put between them the second they got there. He remembers having a single thought the whole time he was there. Get him back.

Benny knew. Dean wasn’t exactly trying to hide it. He noticed when Dean cut up a werewolf that smirked at Deans begging. “You’re running out of time, hunter. The others will get to him first.” He tore the thing to pieces, a lot of pieces. Dean realized when he was there too, that maybe ‘best friend’ wasn’t an appropriate term to call Cas anymore. He didn’t care that much, there were worse things going on.

Until now.

Now Cas lives with them (he never gets tired of remembering that.) He practically exists by Deans side these days. Which shouldn’t be a problem right? Hell, Dean’s been begging him to move in since they found this place.

There’s just the fact that Dean can’t keep any sort of cool when Cas, fresh out of the shower, bursts into Deans room without knocking, only wearing a towel. To ask for more of Deans clothes, which always end up smelling like Cas no matter how much time Dean wears them again.

That’s not even the worst of it. There’s training which means sparing which means Deans fun game of How Do I hide My Boner Today. And it’s just too much at times, Cas’ hot skin on top of him (why does he always get taken down first???) breathing heavily, his eyes shining with excitement and pure fun. And Dean always makes a light blow out, so Cas notices the state he’s in, gets off, rolls to his side still gasping and grinning.

No one can’t really blame him if he wakes up suddenly at night because of non-nightmare related dreams.

Dean can’t really hide his emotions and his outbursts, they don’t know how to control it except for practice. Practice involves a lot of surprise touching to seize each other’s reactions. Sam is really tired of buying lightbulbs.

A voice in the far back of his mind sometimes tells him late at night that he should tell him, he should just run headfirst at the problem like always. Deans truly tempted. But he can’t.

Cas still stares at his blood when he accidentally cuts himself in the kitchen, he still wanders the hallways at four am after a nightmare (he still doesn’t knock on Deans door.) He still has to remind himself that the quiet from the angel radio is permanent now, that the horrible scar on the center of his chest will never heal.

Dean could never force something so unimportant on his friend when he’s like this. Not when Cas still thanks them for letting him stay, like he’s gotta be grateful at all.

So Dean burns in silence a while longer. Whatever, he’s used to it.

Sam watches from the corner of his eye, he even stopped his teasing so Dean assumes that he’s doing a really shit job at hiding his ongoing crisis. Dean can tell that Sam wants to talk with him, he avoids being left alone with him, to the extent of finding even more chores to use as an excuse.

Deans courage to talk to Cas about important shit that they never really got to talk about changes like the winds. It’s extremely frustrating. One day he’s sure he’ll sit down with him on one of their places, the kitchen floor, Cas’ room or the car, but Cas always does something to make him think it’s a bad idea. He suddenly falls asleep in the middle of a conversation, explaining that he still doesn’t know when tired becomes too tired. Or tells Dean something to make him wanna hide on his room all day. (“I never noticed how many freckles you have, not even when I put you back together.” “Sometimes, I still feel aching in bones I don’t even have anymore.” “Sam told me that you like to watch Japanese animated movies, can we watch one tonight?”)

One day he’s too tired of waiting for the right timing, he puts on a jacket, tosses Cas his when he finds him in the library, muttering “Let’s go for a drive.” Sam shoots him a look when he’s walking up the stairs. Dean mentally flips him off.

Cas doesn’t ask questions, with Dean he never does. He gets in the car, not even trying to fight for his right to ride in the pilots seat for a month. He can probably tell Deans overthinking something, they are close like that.

He starts the car and drives directionless for twenty minutes, the radio’s off and they aren’t talking. Cas glances at him occasionally.

He pulls up in a backroad that he uses sometimes to clear his head. “I’m just gonna go ahead and say it the cliché thing: we need to talk.” Cas looks down, Dean feels an echo of hurt. “I understand.” Cas’ voice is small but calm and clear.

“Wait, what do you think this is?” Dean asks him confused about the emotions he’s getting from Cas.

“I need to leave, right?” Cas mutters, still not looking up. “What the fuck?! No!” Shit, Dean remembers how he started a conversation like this a million years ago.

“Fuck, I’m sorry I just remembered how that may have sounded. Wait, have you really been expecting us to kick you out?”

Cas looks out of the window, shrugging. Dean sighs. Well they never really got to talk about that too, but he figured that when he gave Cas his ‘official’ room in the bunker that would’ve been resolved. Apparently not.

“Get it through your angelic head, Cas, the bunker is as yours as it’s Sams and mine. Got it? That time, I told you, it was Gadreel, and I, well I bought it but it wasn’t my choice, man. If you ever assume shit like that again, then we’ll kick you out for real,” Dean says, a little angry. Mostly at himself. Cas stares at him, he looks a little embarrassed. He nods softly.

“Unless you want to leave or something,” Dean tells him, his voice wavers a little. He’s been thinking about it a lot. He’s been getting flashes of Cas’ past. The birth of seas and continents, armies destroyed underneath his wings, flying so high Dean got second hand vertigo, so fast he could only imagine how far Cas was traveling. He used to be so much more, Dean wondered how Cas ever forgave him for his fall, that to some degree, was his fault.

How could he ever stay with two fucked up hunters in a concrete box ten feet underground, doing nothing but mourn the death and kill insignificant monsters, when he used to walk among the skies. Dean wouldn’t blame him if he left.

“Why would I want to leave?” Cas asks him, still staring at him. “I don’t know, but it’s not like me and Sam are the most interesting people around,” Dean replies.

“Right,” Cas scoffs. “Because you lead such a common life.”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you to cut it out with sass, angel. But we’ll get back to that.” Deans glare dissipates when he starts talking again. “I don’t know, Cas. You never stayed long before, we wouldn’t be mad or anything if you need to be alone.”

“I didn’t want to impose myself,” Cas admits. Deans not that surprised. “But I did enjoy spending my free time in the bunker.”

“You’re telling me that I thought you didn’t want to stay, while you thought I wanted you to leave.” Dean runs a hand through his hair. “Miscommunication is a common problem between us,” Cas tells him, grinning subtly.

“Fuck, we’re really a couple of dumbasses.” Dean laughs, he didn’t realize how much the idea of Cas leaving was messing with him until now. Huh, who knew talking helped. (Sam knew, but Dean’s not gonna give him the damn satisfaction.)

“Actually, this is why I wanted us to talk. So, we could, uh work pent up shit out now that we finally have the time,” Dean explains. Cas tilts his head but nods.

“I see, so what else did you wanna talk about?”

“Honestly? I don’t frigging know, man. I was just tired of waiting.” Dean stares off into the road, he really needs to think things through before he starts them.

“Waiting for what?” Cas asks him, still looking at his face. Probably still trying to count his freckles.

“For the right time, I think.” Dean admits, well it’s not a total loss, they did talk about Cas’ stay. “Dean, for the first time since we met, the world is no longer ending. We have all the time in the world.” Dean realizes that he’s been thinking about it too, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Almost three months of peace and quiet are so unlikely, they both suspected something may happen.

But it didn’t, at least not yet. Jody calls once in a while, telling them about her case of the week or other hunters’. She tells them to rest, to heal. They’ve got it covered. Sam looks for hunts, for signs for the next big bad. So far, it’s so normal they’re almost bored.

Right now, Deans biggest problem is his damn crush on Cas.

The thought is so strange he starts to laugh quietly. Cas gives him a confused look but smiles. “I haven’t had peace since my twenties, guess I’m not used to it.”

“Me neither,” Cas confesses. He puts a hand on Deans shoulder. The radio blasts static until he removes it. “We have time to get used to it.”

Dean starts the car and takes Cas home. 

He feels like a weight has been lifted of his shoulders when he walks into the library. That is until Sam without looking up from his latest book asks him “How was your date?”

Dean chokes on his beer. Cas tilts his heads but answers “It was fine.”

 

 

The weeks keep blurring by. Cas keeps getting better, he can make pancakes almost as good as Deans, he can run for three miles in the woods without passing out, he can shoot bullseye with such ease Dean almost thinks he’s been doing it all his life. He can keep Dean pressed down on the mat for almost six minutes now. (“Why do I feel you’re losing willingly?” he asks him. Dean doesn’t answer until Sam stops laughing.)

Dean improves too. He no longer causes short circuits when Cas presses against his back on the firing range. (“It’s to help his aim!! Why am I even explaining myself to you, Sam!”) He doesn’t feel like he touched an exposed wire when they spar. He begins to sleep more normally.

They are recovering as a month flies by. A whole month of binge watching series with Cas till two am discussing theories about the shows. A month of Cas taking naps on Deans room while he cleans their guns, of Cas going out with him to the movies while Sam hunts. Just so much more of Cas he never got to see.

They get a phone call after five weeks of what can only be called a stay in vacation. There’s a whole werewolf pack in Nevada. Jody tells them it’s eight of them. She’s busy with three ghouls in Iowa. “Sorry to bother you, boys.” She sounds tired over their short phone call. “But American hunters are in short supply these days,” she adds bitterly.

Eight is too many for Sam to handle. Dean packs while Cas reads.

They hit the road that same day. There’s already been four deaths.

Cas drives. His month has already passed but he insists that it wasn’t that month specifically, it was 30 days that he gets to drive, so far he’s driven seventeen of those.

“Where do you even come up with this shit?” Dean asks standing in the tip of his toes with his arm stretched above him so Cas can’t reach the keys.

“We had an agreement,” Cas grunts, stretching as far as he can without jumping. Trying to decide if it’s worth it to knee Dean in the stomach.

Sam rolls his eyes effortlessly snatching the keys from Dean’s hand. He protests but Sam interrupts. “For god’s sake, Let the guy drive. It’s getting late.”

Sam comes to regret giving Cas the keys. He thought Dean drives like a madman, well he’s got nothing on Cas, to whom apparently ‘speed limit’ is more of a suggestion.

Dean is about to start yelling at him to treat his car more nicely until he sees Cas’ eyes. They get a shine on them once in a while, it’s special, rare and Dean loves it too damn much. He breathes in, concentrating, yeah there it is. He’s been getting the hang of telling what Cas is feeling with more ease now.

The faint feeling of Cas pure excitement and fun increase after the car passes the one hundred nine miles per hour mark, they aren’t even in an open highway yet. Cas and Deans windows are completely rolled down, they wind making it almost impossible to talk to each other, Cas hair is a complete disaster, but it suits him. A lot. Dean licks his lips and smiles, continuing to stare how Cas’ borrowed t-shirt slides off his shoulders with the winds waves.

Sam is gripping the backseat door a little hard, this just makes Dean laugh more. 

“Cas, I know we’re in hurry but could you ease off the gas?” Sam asks after someone honks at them. The noise becoming a blur like the trees.

“What are the rules again, Sammy?” Dean mockingly says. “The rules don’t really count if all the passengers die,” he retorts.

“Apologies,” Cas mutters guiltily. The car starts to slow down. Dean rolls his eyes at the backseat. “Don’t listen to him, Cas. Go loose.”

Cas smirks. “Wait, no, don-“ Sams words get drowned by the wind.

It’s been five hours of insane driving when Sam snaps. “If you replay that goddamn Led Zeppelin mix again I swear to g-“

“The rules, Sam.” They both say simultaneously, which freaks him out enough to shut him up for the rest of the trip.

They stop to rest at night twice but make it there in less than three days.

They all suddenly remember that Cas doesn’t actually own a suit, also Deans look way to big on him to pass as socially acceptable, even less as a federal agent. So they use the last of an already spent credit card on a tailoring place before heading to the police station.

When he steps out of the changing room Dean feels a little breathless cause oh, there he is.

Cas walks with confidence even when he looks a little worn down. He looks the same as he did one, two, eight years ago. Dean can’t take his eyes off him as he adjusts his tie, trying to fit his fake badge on the inside pocket. When Cas looks at the mirror he stops suddenly, staring at himself. Nostalgia fills his eyes and their connection.

Dean walks up to stand behind him. “My shirts fit you better,” he whispers to Cas back. He looks up at Dean on the mirrors reflection. “They do,” he replies.

The store clerk clears his throat and Sam rolls his eyes. Dean quickly steps back.

The sheriff gives them their victims files and little to no suspects. They think it’s a serial killer wannabe, targeting the hikers in the woods. Sam reads them all in record time over their lunch at McDonalds. “No relation at all between the victims, except that they all were regular runners at that trail. No witness and so far, no bodies,” he tells them.

“Great so how do we found eight people on the third largest forest in America?” Dean asks, cringing at how Sam dips his fries in ice cream.

“Does it taste good?” Cas asks him. “Yeah, don’t let Dean ruin it with his bitching, try some.” Sam hands him one.

“Can we concentrate please? And if anyone’s ruining Cas, it’s you! Teaching him shit like that. Dude no!” He quickly takes Cas ruined fry and tosses it into the trash. Cas glares at him, stealing a bite of his burger in revenge.

“We could camp by the path,” he suggests getting serious. “Posing as bait is far too dangerous when the area is this large and we know it’s a whole pack.”

“Nah, they’ll end up smelling us and run off,” Dean points out.

“This one isn’t easy,” Sam says.

“Wow, you don’t say, captain obvious.”

They end up heading back at six, too tired from the drive to question any locals.

The closest motel looks nice, it even has its own parking service and a pool. They all debate if it’s worth spending extra just cause it’s the nearest one. In the end being really fucking tired wins over fearing bankruptcy.

Cas glances at Dean before handing out the Impalas keys to the service guy. Dean nods, Cas lets go of the keys.

Sam opens the room door and immediately collapses on the nearest bed. “Thanks for helping with the bags, Sammy.” Dean and Cas struggled to carry all the ammo and spare clothes up two sets of stairs while Sam checked them in. He groans but still doesn’t offer to help unpack.

There are only two beds. The fact dawns on him suddenly as he’s looking for a place to put his bag.

“Where’s the other room?” he asks, obviously this is Sam and his and the other must be Cas’.

“They were full. The woman told we could get a free breakfast for the inconvenience,” Sam mutters face down on the bed.

“That’s kind of them,” Cas points out.

“Yeah, I hope you enjoy you waffles, because sharing bed with Sam is almost hell.” Sam flips him off, Cas frowns. “What about the couc-“ Only there’s no couch just four small modern chairs.

“Dean, please try to control your urges for one night maybe? Be practical. I barely fit in this bed by myself, c’mon.” Sam kicks up his legs to demonstrate that, yes, his legs don’t fit from the ankles down.

“I’m the one ‘being practical,’ man. Do you wanna pay for all the light bulbs on this hotel? Because that’s what’s gonna happen if Cas or me even brush against each other while we sleep,” Dean exclaims, letting the urges comment pass.

“He’s right,” Cas says.

“Fine, but I’m already apologizing if I kick you off the bed.” Sam walks into the bathroom to change. Cas being himself, starts stripping in the spot. Dean runs out of the room, saying he’s gonna get some ice. 

An hour and some delivered pizza later they start to get ready for bed.

Dean makes a big show of stretching his limbs all over the individual mattress while Sam glares at him. Cas waits until Sam lays down first before trying to Tetris his way in too. Dean suppresses a laugh, half his body is hanging off the bed. He rolls to his side in the hopes of fitting better, facing Dean, who rises an eyebrow, mockingly. Cas glares at him too.

Sam is the first to fall asleep, Dean follows shortly after.

He was actually sleeping just fine, really. Or he was, until he felt the mattress dip on the left side, his arm quickly grabbing the knife under his pillow. “Calm down, it’s just me.” Cas voice emerges from the dark.

“Man what the fuck?!” Dean whisper shouts, letting go of the knife.

“You were right, about sharing with Sam. Those noises you might’ve heard? It was me falling of the mattress.” Cas starts pulling the covers to get in. Deans brain reminds him that he sleeps in boxers. He starts to protest but Cas cuts him off. “Please, the drive here left me tired and it’s almost four. I’ll pay for the lightbulbs.” He slips under, even though the bed is still two damn small for two six feet tall men they fit better than Cas and Sam.

“With what money?” Dean grunts but he still makes space.

“Thank you,” Cas mumbles, already laying on his back, the only way he sleeps.

“Move a little, you frigging bony ass elbows are poking me.”

“Ow! Dean that’s my hand.”

“Stop shoving me!”

“You stop kicking me!”

“Shit your feet are cold.”

“And you’re too warm.”

“If you’re hot why do you keep pulling the covers.”

“Stop, Dean!”

“Fucking bed hog,” Dean mutters as they finally find a comfortable way to stay. Even if Cas keeps pressing his cold limbs against him. He takes a deep breath and manages to fall asleep, counting his and Cas heartbeats (that he can hear now, apparently) until they sound the same.

 

 

For the second time that night, movement in his bed wakes him up. God, he’s gonna be tired tomorrow. Cas tosses and turns a little erratically. But that’s not what woke him, his heart is beating fast even when he was fine a minute ago.

Oh. That’s not really his own heart.

“Cas, hey. C’mon it’s okay,” He whispers in a calm tone. “Wake up, it’s fine.”

Cas opens his eyes abruptly, his hand shakes a little when his grasps Dean shirt.

“Shit, sorry.” Deans too taken back by his swearing that he doesn’t notice the TV buzzing until Cas lets go.

“It’s fine,” Dean repeats. “Once you snap out of it it’s easier to go back to sleep.”

“I don’t want to,” Cas replies. Swinging his legs of his side. “Can you let me borrow your ipod?” He wants to listen to his songs so he can calm down, damn of all the times he could’ve let it in the bunker.

“Hey, look I need you to stay awake tomorrow okay? Just try to go back to bed.” Dean takes his hand and pulls him until he’s laying down again. Cas stares at him, he sighs and closes his eyes. They fall asleep with their hands still intertwined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to post this in Cas birthday and Dean and Cas' anniversary!!!! (ignore that it's 23:50 lmao) Cas is my favorite character of ever??? In all pieces of media i've consumed i've never quite loved any character as much as i love him, he's so fucking good and amazing and powerful and broken and has so many character dimesions, hess like a constellation of galaxies and im crying.  
> And his relationship with Dean makes me believe in love fuck them tbh, like those two,,,, i s2g,,, they are something else.  
> I honestly love their canon relatonship so much, they are so good without even trying. 
> 
> In conclussion I would die for them
> 
> Wanna cry while looking at DeanCas gifsets of their anniversary with me? here is [my tumblr](http://i-drifting.tumblr.com/)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They do not wake up still holding hands.
> 
> Instead Dean wakes up without any blankets, pushed up against the wall of his side of the bed, missing a sock and no pillow. He tries to sit up and his neck screams at him until he gives up and lies back down again.
> 
> He glances over at Cas who can barely be seen from under the two pillows and blankets. Even asleep he looks awfully smug. Dean considers pouring the glass of water in the bedside table on him. No wonder Sam kicked him out twice.
> 
> Speaking of his brother, the other bed is made and Deans phone has an unread text: “Went to get breakfast since ull probably want the free one (If u slept through the night with Cas you deserve it) tell him im sorry about last night, I was getting impatient with his blanket stealing.
> 
> Ps. You guys r cute [Image attached]” The photo show Cas face down, pressed against Deans chest, one arm over his stomach. Deans hand lingering in Cas.’ God Sam is so fucking dead. (He still saves the picture.)

They do not wake up still holding hands.

Instead Dean wakes up without any blankets, pushed up against the wall of his side of the bed, missing a sock and no pillow. He tries to sit up and his neck screams at him until he gives up and lies back down again.

He glances over at Cas who can barely be seen from under the two pillows and blankets. Even asleep he looks awfully smug. Dean considers pouring the glass of water in the bedside table on him. No wonder Sam kicked him out twice.

Speaking of his brother, the other bed is made and Deans phone has an unread text: “Went to get breakfast since ull probably want the free one (If u slept through the night with Cas you deserve it) tell him im sorry about last night, I was getting impatient with his blanket stealing.

Ps. You guys r cute [Image attached]” The photo show Cas face down, pressed against Deans chest, one arm over his stomach. Deans hand lingering in Cas.’ God Sam is so fucking dead. (He still saves the picture.)

After claiming his well-deserved breakfast, Dean tries to wake Cas up. Emphasis on the ‘Tries.’

In all their time leaving together Dean noticed that Cas always woke up after he did, but he never noticed how much later. “Cas,” he murmurs not wanting to startle him. “Hey it’s already noon, wake up.” He doesn’t show any signs of hearing Dean. “Cas,” he says louder. Nothing.

“Cas?” He nudges his in the ribs with his knee. “Dude.”

He pats him gently. The angel doesn’t move. “Are you dead again?” He shoves him. Still nothing “Oh my god, Cas!”

Dean stands on top of the bed, Cas sleeping in the space between his legs. He feels twenty again and he can almost hear Sams exasperated groaning, the kind only a sleep deprived sixteen year old can truly express, he smirks. He starts jumping frantically.

“Cas! Cas Cas Cas Castiel!” Dean yells. Cas groans, throws him a pillow (his) and tries to tackle him but he’s too sleepy to have any kind of coordination yet.

Dean climbs down, laughing. “What the fuck?” Cas’ morning voice murmurs from the mess that it’s their shared mattress. Dean doesn’t know if it’s the how low his voice sounds, the swearing or the roughness of it. But he stops laughing abruptly.

He clears his throat. “Dude it’s like a quarter to one, you can’t be complaining, I let you sleep way longer than I should’ve.”

“How considerate of you,” Cas replies. He still hasn’t left the bed.

“Consider it payback, you blanket hog.” Dean points towards Cas’ side. “I mean I get that you’re cold but the pillow too?”

“It wasn’t intentional!” Cas exclaims.

“Whatever, now we’re even.”

Cas glares at him and starts to throw himself back into the bed. “Oh no you don’t.” Dean grabs him by the collar of his shirt suspending him inches above the mattress. He trips on the discarded pillow but his other arm supports his weight. Cas’ borrowed shirt still clenched in his fist. He’s so close now. Dean hovering inches above him. Blue eyes still vulnerable and sleepy, he blinks at Dean. Cas eyes glance down, almost stopping at his lips, instinctively Dean licks them like when he’s nervous. Cas looks at them again.

He’s so close and warm and- the door opens. Sam (who fucking else) stops abruptly at the entrance. “Is… this a bad time?”

Dean lets go. Cas yelps as he falls.

 

 

After Cas and Sam eat, they interview some suspects. (“Okay one more time, what are you Not gonna do?” “Be the bad cop.” “And?” “Yell at the widows.” “And?” “Slam my fist on furniture.”) All of them are clean, Deans silver ring doesn’t burn them when they shake hands. They are running out of plans.

“We’re running out of plans,” Cas declares over his milkshake while they eat in the car, Dean blinks, if he can read his thoughts now too he’s gonna lose it.

“Our only one left isn’t the best option,” Sam says. Dean takes a deep breath, eight wolves between the three of them. They’ve taken on more and way more dangerous things but still he’d rather not do it. Not when Cas is, well.

He knows that if his friend knew what he was thinking he would hate it. Dean feels a little guilty, Cas has worked so hard these months in attempt to catch up to him and Sam, but if Dean worries about his brother that has been doing this since he was born, he really can’t help to wish for Cas to be left out of the action. 

“We don’t know the area, or where they drag the victims. We should wait a little longer,” Dean points out. He hates it. The feeling of uselessness when he must wait until more people disappear, until more people die. Sam sighs, resigned.

The next morning a seventeen year old kid has gone missing in the path. Dean grits his teeth while he loads his gun and Cas packs his blade.

“Under no fucking circumstances do we get separated, got it?” Dean says. They stand just on the edge of the woods, there’s no sun even when it’s noon, the clouds threaten rain. “We’re not here to kill. Yet.” Sam stares at the woods warily, while he packs the backpack. Cas eyes are hard and calculating. “We find the boy, we set the trap and we’re out.”

“This is a horrible idea,” Sam says, helpfully.

“This was your idea, Sam.” Cas and Dean say in unison. Cas says it as a statement. Dean as a complain.

After a few meters into the forest the foliage becomes too thick to let the light in, the trees and the floor look gray and distorted under the poor lighting. Dean feels like he’s been here before. There’s no way to walk silently on leaves. Great.

They walk for God knows how long. Cas stops abruptly after an hour and a half. “Listen,” he whispers. Dean stops and does. There’s no noise at all.

“Not even bugs,” Sam says loading his silver gun. “Shit.”

They are in the area alright. The trees have scars that no animal could’ve done. “They probably smelt us by now,” Dean warns. They continue walking for another forty minutes. Stopping just in the quiet zone would be way too obvious, besides they’re just here to find their nest.

A twig snaps in Deans left but it’s too late.

It jumps from behind the tree, taking him to the ground. His gun digs hard on his back where it’s tucked. There’s a scream, Cas’ maybe. The loading of a gun and another two set of footsteps comes running.

They grab Sam by the arms, kneeling in the stomach. He’s pinned against a tree a few feet next to Dean. The one on top of him bares his fangs. Which are getting closer to his skin. Claws dig on his bicep when he pushes with all his strength, trying to get that mouth away from his neck. He’s aware of the blood soaking his shirt, he doesn’t feel it. He keeps pushing until the wolfs legs lose stability. It has to back off if he doesn’t want Dean on top. He seizes the moment, kicking it hard on the ribs. He hears a crack.

He’s free. Rolling away, he stands up. The wolf is fast but Dean is faster. The gunshot echoes in the empty forest.

“Samm-“ The clearing is empty.

 

 

Fuck. This isn’t happening. Shit. Dean runs in the first direction he chooses, the wolf he killed dragged him and turned him a lot. He doesn’t know which way he came from. Dean can hear the blood in his ears, his heartbeat in his mouth. He’s pretty sure he’s not breathing. ‘There were more than two.’ A branch cuts his cheek open, he swears. ‘They took them both.’ Dean tries not to think about his enemy was going for the kill instead of wanting to take him to the nest.

Something catches his eye at his right. Something silver. (“It’s not silver, Dean. It’s an element that humanity doesn’t know.”) He remembers those words as he picks up Cas blade. 

His scream also echoes.

‘He’s unarmed.” He keeps chasing in the direction the blade was pointing. ‘He’s unarmed.’

The desperation blinds him, he gets ambushed for the second time. It’s also two. One has blood on his shirt that can’t be his own, since he’s not wounded. Dean sees red. Rage over takes him like it only used to do when he was bearing the mark. It shouldn’t be possible but he takes off the head of the closest wolf in one swing of the angel blade.

The other is too stunned to react quickly enough, Dean tackles him and sits on top of him. He takes of the knife tucked on his ankle, it cuts clean through the wolfs hand. It howls. Dean pins the knife and the hand to ground. “Now, you just saw what I did to your friend, but it’s just you and me, okay? We have more time.” He takes the Cas’ blade, the scream the thing makes when it cuts through the nerve makes Deans breath pick up speed. ‘Not now. Not now.’ This is why he never questions the creatures. Fucking Alistair.

“It’s simple, really. You tell me where you took my friend and I kill you painlessly,” Dean explains. The wolf spits on the ground. “Don’t be like that,” he complains, twisting.

“Fucking tell me!” He draws the blade and points it at the things eye.

“By the creek!” The thing screams. “The cabin!” Those are his last words.

He’s there in record time. He stumbles on a werewolf’s corpse on his way. ‘Sam found him and they are fine, they’re okay.’ He tells himself but his stomach sinks when his sees the bloody handprints on the doors hinges. It looks like someone tried to grab unto it to stop being dragged inside.

The cabins first floor is empty except for a stripped blue hoodie, the one the missing kid was last seen wearing. Dean sighs, resigned. He heads towards the basement stairs, because of fucking course there’s a basement. More blood greets him on his way down. The stairs have broken steps, he kicks a bullet aside.

Sam is unconscious on the floor, surrounded by the bodies of the two that grabbed him. His ankle bends unnaturally to the left.

“Sammy! Sam, hey.” Dean drops next to him and checks for bites, he thanks whoever when he finds none. Sam stirs, coughing up blood and gasping.

“Dean! They took Cas I-“ He coughs more. He’s got a really big cut on his shoulder. Where he was laying down there’s a small puddle of red.

“Sam it’s fine, it’s alright. I’m still alive so he’s too.” He shoulders Sams weight, they start stumbling up the stairs. The sky and his surroundings still a pale gray.

Out of the cabin, Dean takes them upstream. The gravel in some sides of the river looks messed up, there was fight in that direction. Sam is fighting to stay awake. Dean doesn’t blame him, taking down three with a broken ankle by himself.

He’s going as fast as he can when he spots them. One wolf dead, the river washing away the blood on its face. Cas holding his gun, Dean had completely forgotten about giving it to him, pointing at the last one. His grip shakes slightly. Half his face is drenched in blood from a cut above his eyebrow. There’s claw red claw marks that go from side of his torso to the other, his arms are pretty shredded too. Deans borrowed shirt soaked in his blood. “Go!” Sam yells pushing Dean off him, he tries to hold himself up but collapses. Dean doesn’t need to be told twice.

Sams scream distracted Cas and the wolf. Dean catches his eyes, noticing the fear in them.

The wolf does too, she lunges, knocking the gun of his hands. Cas groans when his back hits the floor. Everything seems to slow down a little, Cas blocks her teeth by putting his arm against her throat, he screams when more claws dig into his hand.

Dean buries the blade on her neck. He shoves her aside.

Cas chest is far worse than he thought. So much blood, nearly too much. “Hey buddy, hey. C’mon.” He tries to pull Cas up but his friends yell stops him. He does manage to sit up, kneeling with his head down. Dean sits down in the same position.

Carefully he wraps his arms around Cas’ shoulders. He groans at how hard Dean is squeezing him but manages to weakly put an arm around Dean’s back. They stay like that until Deans shirt is soaked in blood too.

After the adrenaline high, he painstakingly sets Sams ankle right and finds him a stick to lean on. His hands are full. Cas passed out as soon as he saw Sam. So, Dean with his arm fucked up has to carry an unconscious ex angel for God knows how many miles. Great. 

It takes forever to get out of the woods. Sam sweats buckets, gritting his teeth with every step. They kinda patched Cas up but every improvised bandage is now soaked. He walks faster.

As soon as the three of them are in the car Dean feels like passing out too. He grits his teeth and start the engine. He violates every single speed limit in the way to the motel. They are nearly there when he makes the mistake of looking in the backseat.

Suddenly its night, Cas has a hole in his chest, he’s pale in his backseat and he isn’t waking up again.

“Dean!” Sam throws himself across the front seat, taking the wheel from him and swerving into their lane. Another car sounds their horn alarmingly close.

“Fuck.” He grips the wheel but still glances at the rearview mirror to notice how Cas chest still rises and falls with his breathing. “h-he looks the same.”

“What?!” Sam asks still freaked.

“As he did when- I-I thought, fuck.” He tries to ease his breathing. Sam looks back.

“Oh,” he mutters. They pull up into the back of the motel shortly after.

Sam goes first to tell him if there’s anyone nearby, when he whistles Dean opens the backseat door.

“Sorry about this, Cas.” As carefully as humanly possible he slowly picks him up. Cas gasps, waking up abruptly. He screams until Dean starts shushing him. “Stop, we’re already at the motel. Someone might hear us.” Cas closes his mouth, quietly whimpering until they’re inside the room. Dean sets him down on their bed, Cas muffles his screams.

Sam is already on his bed, pouring liquor on his wounds. “Keep an eye on him,” he tells him while walking out the door. The bandages they brought aren’t enough for Cas’ wounds.

There’s blood on the backseat again.

 

 

Dean doesn’t sleep that night. Cas doesn’t wake up for eighteen hours. It’s the night of day after when he finally does. Half asleep on an uncomfortable chair Dean hears his breathing quicken.

“Whoa, easy Cas.” He’s beside the bed in the blink of an eye. “Your healing is good but not that good. Try not to move,” Dean whispers in the dark, trying to not wake up Sam who is still sleeping it off.

“Dean,” Cas says, dazed. The cut on his forehead is not as bad as it was yesterday but it does stand out against how pale he is. His lips are chapped and the bags under his eyes look worse than ever.

“It’s fine, they’re all dead.” Dean sits down on the bed, suddenly more awake just from hearing Cas’ voice again.

“The child,” Cas croaks, his voice rough. Dean looks down. Cas closes his eyes and lays back down.

“We went as fast as we could,” Dean reassures him.

“Not enough,” Cas mutters. Dean feels the frustration Cas sends, the anger, the impotence.

“It seems like it never is.” He runs a hand over his face. “Go back to sleep.”

“Dean.” The covers shift slightly. “Thank you.”

“Why?”

“It would have killed me.” Cas sits up, hugging his knees even when his shirt begins to stain red. “If it wasn’t for you…”

“Fuck, Cas.” It was too soon, seeing Cas get hurt like that again in such a short period of time. It had been too much for him. Dean inches closer he wants to. To what?

“That forest.” Dean looks down the moonlight peeking from the other side of the room. “Purgatory,” Cas finishes. “I thought so too.”

“You were there one second and then,” Dean says vaguely. Cas shifts awkwardly.

“This time it wasn’t intentional.”

“I know, dumbass.” Dean continues to be pulled towards him, like the planets to the sun. Their hands brush. They don’t make attempts to separate them. “It’s just, as much as I loved being there, I only thought about them getting to you.” He said it, it’s out there. Dean blames the lack of sleep, it is two am after all.

“Loved?” Cas asks. He doesn’t dwell on the second part of the sentence.

“I know, it’s fucked up. I don’t know how else to say it I just felt, free. Pure.” Dean hadn’t tried to explain it to anyone other than Sam. “It was liberating, me and you.”

Cas makes an understanding noise. He looks out of the window. “I hated it.” He looks so tired. “But also, I understand what you mean. I hated it and that’s how I knew that it was where I was supposed to be.” He glances at Dean quickly. “It was my punishment, I believe. From everything I did. To hear you asking for me every night and knowing that if I helped you I might as well be handing you over to them.”

Dean stares at him for a long time. “I am sorry,” Cas continues. “I never said it but I am sorry for staying. I believed at that time- well, it hardly matters now.” A faint sense of longing fills his chest, it feels like when he catches pieces of Cas’ memories. Oh, that’s how they felt back then. “If I had gone with you…”

“You came back.” Dean remembers the side of the road. How he stayed there for hours standing outside the car, waiting and wondering if Purgatory had made him lose his damn mind. He remembers the motel window and the bathroom mirror. The way Cas smelled like that place, the way he longed to go back just to find him. “If you hadn’t I- I don’t know what I would’ve done,” he confesses.

“I’m sorry,” Cas says again. Dean wonders how many times he’s heard that from him.

Cas falls back to sleep again. Dean just stares at the cuts on his chest.

They end up leaving in the middle of the night the next day. The mattress he shared with Cas looks like a crime scene, the bathroom sink isn’t much better. Cas still heals faster than any human so he insists on walking on his own towards the car, coughs up blood and literally swoons into Sams arms. Who swears and carries him bridal style the rest of the way.

Dean really should’ve slept better these past two nights. It’s only been three hours on the road and he’s already asking Sam to fetch him his shitty expresso filled thermos.

“That bad. Huh?” He mocks him.

“Yeah, you tend to get tired while looking after two bleeding-out assholes for two nights,” Dean complains, cringing at the taste of cold coffee.

“I wasn’t bleeding out,” Sam scoffs. “But thanks,” he mutters after a pause.

“Just doing my job,” Dean tells him.

The drive is spent in silence for the most part. Until about four am. “What did you mean?” Sam asks. “When you said that if you were alive he must have been too?”

Dean swallows the lump on his throat, gripping the wheel a little tighter. “It was on the terms and conditions of the resurrection spell.” The quiet that fills the car between sentences is oppressing. “Guess I never read those.”

Sam looks at him with worry until he continues. “There’s always sappy shit with soul-bonding apparently.” He avoids meeting his brothers eye. “The catch is that now if Cas bites it I do too.”

He’s expecting Sam to gasp dramatically and yell at him about him being right about the spell, he shouldn’t have done it, now look at what’s gonna happen, etcetera. Instead he stays quiet for a couple of miles, when finally he looks at Dean on the eye. “That’s really fucking romantic.”

“Fuck off,” Dean retorts on reflex. Then “Really? I tell you that both of us are gonna die and that’s what you get from it?”

Sams laugh is a little hysteric. “What? There’s nothing to do, man. At least this time you have more than a year.”

Dean rolls his eyes, it’s true, there’s no way to change that fact. At the very least they can make fun of it.

“But no, you’re right, I should be worried. You two are the most reckless dicks ever. How the hell am I gonna keep you guys alive?” Sam points out.

“Shut the fuck up, Sammy.”

 

 

Deans is starting to think every time they’re in the bunker is time spent healing horrible wounds. This time it takes three weeks for Cas’ chest to go back to normal (if normal is having a stab wound that goes from back to front.) They fall into their old routine of changing bandages. Dean still frowns when he sees all his wounds, Cas is beginning to look more resigned.

Dean hates it but also doesn’t. Cas is so vulnerable with him, literally bearing all his scars to him, trusting that Dean will fix him up. Dean remembers those times when he would scream, even beg when his injury was that bad, for Cas to come and heal him. After some time, he just had to bleed for the angel to appear (which was absurd when he got a paper cut and lifesaving when he passed out from losing too much blood.)

He guesses it’s his time to return the favor.

Dean isn’t smothering him. He is not.

What, so now Dean can’t bring his friend food to bed for a week? He almost bled out so sue him.

One-night Cas catches Dean changing when he walks into his room for his new bandages. Dean quickly tries to find a shirt and maybe some fucking pants (“I thought we taught you to freaking knock!”) until he realizes that Cas couldn’t care less about his pink boxers.

They quietly sit down on Deans bathroom. Cas on the edge of the tub, Dean on the toilet. Knees bumping occasionally. He’s rolling up the old gauze when light fingers trace an old cut in the back of Deans thigh, electricity runs through his body at the surprising touch, the lights dim until he controls himself again.

“Where is this form?” Cas asks, always curious.

Dean clears his throat. “Not a monster, surprisingly.” He laughs under his breath recalling the event. “A bar fight that went south quickly. For me at least. They had more knives than I expected and I way drunker than I originally considered.”

Cas rises and eyebrow sarcastically. Dean shrugs guiltily. His friend backs away a few inches, he tilts his head, staring at Deans exposed body. Suddenly he really regrets buying these boxers.

“You have a lot of them,” Cas says quietly, like it’s a secret.

“Should’ve seen me before.” Dean rubs the back of his neck. “You erased a lot of them.”

Cas eyes fall on the hand print on top of Deans shoulder. “I had one about here,” Dean continues, gesturing to a spot on the side of his stomach. “First gunshot.”

“I thought I was gonna die right then and there.” Cas nods sympathetically. “I have been shot too so I think I understand,” he says.

“Shut up, you angelic bastard you couldn’t feel any of them!” Dean scoffs. Cas glares at him.

“Anyways, it was the worst thing I had ever felt. So far,” Dean tells him about the poltergeist who got creative and started firing their weapons, he was nineteen. “Sam cried.” Dean laughs. “It missed my intestines by an inch. Still took me a month and a half to run without coughing up half my lungs.”

Cas keeps touching the ones he wants to hear about, Dean keeps explaining them. A ghoul, a vamp, some drunks, Sam himself, a kitchen knife, demons. The list is long. He doesn’t know how long they’ve been in the bathroom but Cas runs out of old scars. Dean keeps telling him about the ones he erased after hell. He doesn’t remember a lot of the since he hasn’t seen them in a long time. He worked small cases then. Ghosts, more vamps, a wolf. Johns too.

Those are all of them.

Still, hesitant Cas reaches out to Deans face, he touches one of the cuts the last hunt left him. Now nothing but a pale line, he shares Cas’ quick healing too. Dean tries to not lean into Cas’ warm hands, he fails.

“I wish I could wipe them off again.” Dean closes his eyes, and presses himself harder in his palm.

He finishes wrapping him up, it’s nearly one o’ clock. Cas tosses the shirt he was wearing in the rooms laundry basket, walk towards Deans closet and pulls a fresh one out.

After thanking him he begins to leave. Recklessly Dean grabs hold of his wrist in the last second. It’s Cas’ turn to be thrown off by Deans surprise touch, his eyes light up blue slightly. He turns to face him, giving him a questioning look.

Dean doesn’t know what he’s doing either. “Wanna stay?”

Cas closes the door before climbing into Deans bed. He has never slept this well in his life.

 

 

Cas walks out of Deans bedroom at 9am dying of thirst, Sam watches him walk to the kitchen from the middle of the hallway speechlessly, toothbrush still hanging out of his mouth. Cas doesn’t acknowledge him. He peeks inside Deans room where his brother still sleeps. He covers his mouth but the grin still appears. Oh, so that’s how it is.

He’s walking back to his room when he sees Cas walk back in.

Dean blinks awake without blankets or pillow. Again. Cas pressed to his side like his own skin. He should really get up. It’s already noon.

He doesn’t.

 

 

Cas is still dead to the world when he carefully unwarps himself from his death grip. Alright so now they share a bed, it’s fine, it’s cool, it doesn’t have to mean anything. Cas doesn’t know what this kind of stuff implies so Dean shouldn’t bring it up. No one will find out and make it weird, it’s under control.

“Long night?” Sam asks, sipping innocently from his glass of water when he runs into him in the library.

Dean adds some liquor to his coffee. 

Its (another) lazy day, they have left over pizza and call it a night at eleven. Cas’ walks into Deans room like its his own. 

Dean doesn’t really mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .........this was supposed to be a 10 chapter fic.......
> 
> This is the last chapter posted before season 13 (thats today and im,,,,,Not Ready) god i remember starting planing this the day of the season finale. Also I really apologize for how fucking late this is but there was a massive earthquake and exams and yeah no i was stuck and procrastinating sorry. 
> 
> As I said this was supposed to be a 10c fic and it just spiraled and I well, I let it. So now Im trying (emphasis on the 'trying') to make these chapters longer. 
> 
> Happy Season 13 Day come freak out with me in [my tumblr ](http://i-drifting.tumblr.com/) i post a lot of spoilers tho.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean knows that Sam knows and Sam knows that he knows. You can’t really hide something from someone that has lived in the same motel room as you for all your lives. So now they are sleeping together. No, no. In the same bed. The mocking is relentless. 
> 
> He still doesn’t kick Cas out of his room at night tho.

He stirs awake at the sound of Sams footsteps outside the door. He checks the bedside clock, it’s already eleven thirty, lately sleeping in has become a habit of them. Dean reads or checks his phone while Cas sleeps until noon. Dean rarely ever leaves the room while Cas is still asleep. Which means Dean roughly starts his days at one in the afternoon. 

It’s not really productive.

It’s also painfully domestic. He’s aware, he just can’t seem to care. Even with Sams endless teasing. It doesn’t matter thats been over a month of their, uh, arrangement. 

Dean knows that Sam knows and Sam knows that he knows. You can’t really hide something from someone that has lived in the same motel room as you for all your lives. So now they are sleeping together. No, no. In the same bed. The mocking is relentless. 

He still doesn’t kick Cas out of his room at night tho. 

It’s because he’s weak. Always has been when it comes to Cas. Plus, he’s sleeping, like actually eight-hours-no-nightmares sleeping all thanks to the angel. Still it’s a double edged knife. Dean doesn’t know how many times he’s had to stop himself from touching Cas late at night or in the morning. Not even in a sexual way (Although Cas’ body heat and light brushes in the night are not helping his non-nightmare dreams) just brushing his black hair off his eyes, or feeling his now semi permanent five o'clock shadow. 

Dean just keeps digging his own grave. 

There are worse ways to die, he knows this. God, does he know it but it’s so much and never enough. Cas’ morning voice,the vulnerability of the whole situation, how his smell lingers on Deans room all day long, making him ask himself if he smells like him too, driving him fucking insane. 

It’s so intimate and he is starting to want to sleep on the couch.

He’ll never be able to properly sleep alone after this.   
There’s also that. They’re starting to wonder about the distant future. It seems surreal to snap out of the ‘I’ll probably be dead by Christmas’ mentality so he keeps making stupid decisions (like this one right here on his bed) without thinking it will affect him on the long run. 

He casts his friend a lingering look. Cas sleeps facing him, so close he can almost count his eyelashes if he wanted to. 

Fuck. 

He gets out of bed.

 

After another two weeks they get another call. A series of mass possessions on New Mexico. Cas groans, it’s only been little over two months from the last case. His wounds completely healed but the scars still linger. 

Dean gets it, but after all the time locked in the bunker he is going a little insane. He’s always been on the move, it’s hard to unlearn things like this. 

“Does it ever drive you insane?” He asks, not really thinking about it.

Cas makes a questioning noise. “Being here for so long?” Dean continues. “After all the time you spent, you know, being that?”

Cas shuts the glove box. Deans checking the car to see if it’s ready for the road, Cas tagged along to see how it’s done but Dean decided he was a lost cause so now he’s arranging the old cassettes. 

“I suppose,” he answers. “I guess I always took it for granted.”

Dean shuts the hood. He walks closer to Cas, leaning against the passengers door. “When I first started falling, there were times when I was focusing unconsciously. Not even realizing what I was attempting, until my wings ached from the effort of trying to teleport.” 

Dean remembers putting salt on the bunkers front door every time they arrived for at least three months before he started to remember that it was warded.

“I don’t miss it,” Cas declares. “I miss how useful it was, cars are so slow.” He looks at Dean apologetically, he is sitting in his car after all. Dean raises an eyebrow playfully. 

“But now that I’m literally grounded, I have things to miss. Flying makes you too detached.”

“I don’t miss it either,” Dean tells him. Cas’ shoots him a knowing look. ‘I don’t miss you disappearing on us’ is what he means. 

After dinner, one final episode of Sam and Cas’ lame documentary and a quick rock paper scissors to see who gets to ride shotgun (plot twist it’s Sam) they finally leave. 

“I wanna talk about something,” Sam says after a few hours. Dean shuts the radio off. 

“I’ve been reading one of Rowenas spell books that we recovered from her safe house.” He opens his backpack and passes the book to Cas.”There’s this spell, an exorcising spell.”

Dean sighs, here we go. “It’s easy, I have all of the ingredients and this case is the perfect place to test it out.”

“Alright,” Dean says. 

“So, get this. It exorsises every demon in the room,” Sam explains ,excitedly. Every since they were on ‘I can kill you but I guess I won’t’ terms with Rowena he’s been taking interest in causal magic. Deans kinda okay with it as long as he doesn’t gut rodents on the kitchen table. 

“Like a banishing symbol,” Cas says. 

“Exactly!” Sam continues. “I think she developed it herself, so it’s a bit of a rough draft. It says that the more demons the weaker the spell, but if it’s only one it could kill it while leaving the victim alive.” 

“Are you sure about that?” Dean asks. He’s very untrusting of witches sue him.

“It’s better than stabbing,” Sam mutters through gritted teeth. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” He sighs. “I know it doesn’t kill them, but it saves the person.”

“He’s right,” Cas pipes in. “We should at least try.”

“If it does work, I could modify it to function like Kevins bombs,” Sam pulls out one of his notebooks and spends what to Dean feels like the entire trip theorizing and debating with Cas. 

It’s nightfall when they finally make it into the motel. 

“Here’s the key.” He tosses it to Sam. 

This time they did have rooms with three beds. He’s a little disappointed. 

He and Sam go through the list of the supposed possesed.

“Five?” Cas asks fresh out of the shower, the motels towel catching the drops that slide down his chest. “I thought it would be more.”

“Be thankful there aren't. Right, Dean?” Sam murmurs tracing the house of the victims to see if there’s somewhere the demons could be coming from.

Cas has a really bad habit (or good depends of how you look at it) of just, freaking staying on a towel long after coming out of the shower. He sits on his bed like that his back facing Deans table. He reaches towards Deans duffle, rummaging through it to find a shirt. His back muscles, that still remind Dean of his of wings, stretch and relax. 

“Dean,” Sam snaps him out of it. “We’re sharing a room, please don’t.” 

“Fuck you.” Dean turns his chair around. 

After they call it a night. 

He’s finally asleep, it must be the bed, he just couldn’t go under even when the driving left him exhausted, when Cas rips the covers off. 

“Sh,” he whispers. “I can’t fall asleep, move over.”

“Bossy,” Dean mutters but he does. 

They are out as soon as Cas lies down. 

“Why did we even spend extra on Cas’ bed?” Sam asks when he sees them the next morning looking extremely resigned. 

That day they spilt up to interrogate the relatives that reported the victims as missing. Yes, they were all acting unusually, no, they haven’t answered the phone, no, they didn’t have any enemies? What?. 

“Procedure questions, ma’am.” The woman wipes her eyes with the back of her palm. 

“She doesn’t have anyone else, you know?” Her missing friend hasn’t been seen in the last three weeks. “Her parents died last year and I, I think I’m the only one who realized she wasn’t here at all.” 

“That means you’re already helping her, ma’am,” Cas says offering her a tissue from the coffee table. “That you keep looking is what led us here in the first place.” Dean is always taken aback when he sees how utterly good Cas is with people. Sure he’s a social wreck but he’s better at reassuring and caring for them than Dean ever was.

He handles their pain and guilt with so much ease and confidence about making it better that the first few years Dean knew him he tough it must have been some angelic ‘Protectors of humanity’ crap, until he remembered that all the other angels where assholes.

‘Too much heart’ Dean remembers, too much heart sums his friend up really well. 

“They told me that maybe she wanted to leave. But that’s bullshit, she would’ve said something she would’ve told someone, she would’ve told me.” The tears don’t stop but her voice is strong. Her eyes don’t show any doubt.

Back in the car they call Sam to go over the interviews.

“God, I fucking hate demons,” Dean says when Sam hangs up. “Possession is the lowest of the low, no offense.” 

“I did ask permission the first time!” Cas says clearly offended. “This body is actually mine I explained that.”

“I said ‘no offense’” 

Cas makes a displeased noise. 

Sam is quiet at the restaurant. He tells them in more detail about the interrogations and points out a few places around town where the demons could be hiding. After that he doesn’t really eat all of his pasta (it was Cas’ turn to pick where to eat so of course he chose the expensive italian one.) Dean knows Sam’s behaviour it’s because of the case. Possessions are never enjoyable, especially if you know first hand how it feels to be worn around. 

He takes the long route to the motel, he knows it’s around there somewhere. 

“Here.” he hands his brother their newest credit card. “Go nuts.”

Sam looks up from the map marked with the possible hideouts and looks out of the window. His eyes wide. “What... Why?” He asks all confused and incredulous. 

“Look, you’ve been complaining about how slow that thing is since it got wet that one time and frankly? I’m really frigging tired of hearing about it.”

“But-” Sam starts.

“Just go Sammy,” Dean groans impatiently. 

Sam gives him one more awed look before entering the store. 

It literally only takes him less than five minutes (Dean counted.) Before returning with his new laptop on a blue bag. He knows Sam been waiting for that new model since it was announced. On the first day they arrived Dean noticed that the store was announcing it too. 

“Does this mean I can keep Sam’s old laptop?” Cas asks. Sam laughs and gives him the password. 

“That was nice,” Cas whispers after they arrive on their room. “He was acting different. Quiet.”

“God, I miss when that was the case.” Sam has been talking about the new software for at least thirty minutes now. 

Cas shoves him playfully. “You’re kind,” he tells him, in such a genuine tone that only Cas can convey, before walking away. 

Deans heart demands a damn break. 

 

 

“Dean!” Cas voice is the only thing he registers after hitting the wall and consequently the floor. ‘Fuck’ is the only coherent word he can think. It sums up the situation pretty well. 

The fuckers knew, they knew they were hunters and they knew they were in town. Probably from the interviews. Just their luck that these demons decided to keep an eye on the families. Either way they knew and kidnapped the last person Dean and Cas talked to, she had called them panicked saying someone was at her house. And because they are idiots with a hero complex, they all but ran there. 

So know Dean is bleeding in the living room floor, probably with a concussion and at least three broken ribs. 

He fights it but his vision is already going black. The demon that threw him , the possessed friend of the house's owner, smiles wickedly at the sight. She picks up his knife and raises her arm. 

But. Her face contorts and she screams backing away. She trips on the coffee table, falling on her back. The girl, not the demon, screams again but her time's up as soon as it started. The demon grimances regaining control. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt your friend if you were nice, these assholes weren’t on the deal.” She stands up. The last thing Dean sees before passing out is the heel of her boot. 

“Dean,” Cas says. But it’s wrong, his voice is higher? Colder. Dean noticed it a few days ago. Still he can’t quite place his finger on it. 

“What’s up, Cas?” He shuts the freezers door. 

“What was the combination of the library's safe?” Cas (no, not Cas) asks. His posture is off too, too tense, too unfamiliar. 

“Lucifer banged you up pretty good, huh?” He says, Cas healed him the same night they fought him in the cage but Dean still feels aching, he guesses it was the archangels strength or whatever. 

“You have no idea,” Cas mutters. Dean raises an eyebrow but tells him all the same. “Moms birthday.” Listing the numbers from memory. 

The dream (is it a dream?) changes. 

He’s calling him for the third time already, but Cas isn’t picking up. Finally in the sixth ring his voice come through. “What?”

“Wow, sorry,” Dean mutters. “What the hell man, why aren’t you picking up?”

“I’m busy,” Cas deadpans. “What do you want?” 

“What's gotten into you?” Dean asks, there's a snort on the other line. “Whatever, just get you winged ass here quick.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He says and hangs up. Dean sighs and pushes his worry down. 

It changes again. 

This time he’s leaning against the library wall he was thrown at. He has his eyes closed, he doesn’t remember quite well what he was thinking but he remembers that voice. ‘Cat’s out’ Dean thinks there's someone screaming, he can’t tell if it’s him. 

Now there’s holy fire all around Cas, who doesn’t look like Cas anymore. The smoke and heat make it harder to breathe, not like Dean could breathe at all. Lucifer mocks him, laughs and grins like this is the best possible entertainment there is. 

Dean gave up calling his name. Still he prays ‘Cas, c’mon man, we’ve got him now.’ He wonders if Lucifer can hear him, if he’s fighting to keep Cas down. 

He laughs again. Dean feels sick. He has never felt quite as useless as when his family is possesed by fucking Satan. He glances at Sam, whose hands are shaking. 

‘Cas, please.’ Lucifer turns to look at him and raises an eyebrow sarcastically. 

 

He begins to open his eyes, nope, nah too much effort. “Oh thank God,” someone's muffled voice says. 

“Actually, no.” Cas, yeah thats Cas. 

“Cas,” He croaks. It’s fine, it’s him. He’s here with him and it’s only him.

“Don’t move,” He tells him, trying to push him down. Dean sits up anyway. 

“What the fuck?” He’s in the motel room. Loose stitches on his forehead itch. “How long? What?” Words are complicated. 

“Just a couple hours, you got knocked out and only one person died,” Sam explains. 

“Who?” Dean feels his bandages under his shirt, he thinks his ribs might burn a hole through them.

“One of the possessed, we’re not sure if they were already badly injured.” Cas keeps his hand on his arm. It’s comforting, grounding. 

“The spell worked,” Sam says a little louder, excitedly. “Everyone else was exorcised after you got knocked out after Cas tackled the girl.” 

“I already apologized,” Cas mutters, rubbing at the back of head.   
Dean throws them a tiny smile, it’s a win, for once. They didn’t have to kill anyone and Sam and Cas seem uninjured, that’s all that matters. 

“We should leave soon though,” Sam says. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I got thrown against a wall.” They both roll their eyes at him. “Fine, just someone else should drive.”

Cas perks up and Sam shrugs. 

Just before they hit the highway Dean spots it. “Stop here,” he commands. 

“Why?” Cas asks but he’s already slowing down. 

“C’mon is my treat,” Dean says. Sam looks up from his kindle and shoots him a questioning look. Dean ignores him. 

Getting out of a car that is already small for someone his height and with bruised ribs is a difficult task. He manages until he closes the door and is left with nothing to lean on. He’s about to fall when a strong arm wraps around his waist. Cas stumbles with his weight, he holds him tightly. One arm low on his back so he doesn’t touch Deans chest. 

Maybe too low because Dean feels himself falling backwards this time, his feet slide on the concrete and he swears, instinctively throwing his hands around Cas’ neck, who struggles even more, quickly supporting Deans back with his other arm just below his neck. 

After the brief moment is ‘shit I’m gonna fall backwards’ passes Dean becomes aware of the position they are in very quickly. He’s never danced with anyone in his life but he’s pretty sure he’s being dipped. 

He clears his throat. “Cas,” he says, voice carefully neutral. 

“Yes, Dean?” He responds, God Dean hates his guts.

“Help me up, asshole.” Dean grunts. He hears Sams poor attempt at stopping his laughter in the background. 

“I’m fine.” He tries to push away from Cas, he isn’t having it. They walk towards the door like that, Dean glaring at him while Cas arm stays wrapped carefully around his waist. 

He has to explain what he wants like that too. While the girl keeps awkwardly glancing between the two of them. 

“Alright, that’s enough. Take off your shirt.” Cas tilts his head. “This is for you, dumbass. Probably should’ve done it sooner though.”  
“Wha-” Cas begins, interrupted by the sound of the tattoo needle coming to life. 

“It might hurt,” Sam tells him. “Please try not to blow anything up.”

“You speak as if I do that regularly,” Cas huffs. Dean stares at him blankly, like they aren’t going bankrupt on lightbulbs alone. Cas very pointedly looks away. 

There's no anti-archangel possession tattoo but it will have to do. 

Cas takes off his shirt and yeah, Dean forgot about the scar. It’s not as bad as it was, but the girl's eyes widen in shock. She even takes a step back when Cas’ turns his back on her, the point where the blade entered looks even worse. 

“He had a series of operations,” Sam quickly lies. Dean can tell the girl doesn’t buy it. 

Cas knuckles go white where he’s gripping the chair when the needle touches his skin. Dean figures the pain can’t be worse than being stabbed in the heart but he gets echoes of mild panic through the familiar link. Something about the situation is reminding Cas of something. Dean doesn’t want to tell the girl to stop and draw attention to Cas ragged breathing. 

He walks closer to the chair that’s pulled low, leaving Cas almost lying down instead of sitting. Dean pulls a nearby stool. He sits closely to the side of Cas’ head. He casually puts a hand on his shoulder. He turns to look at him sharply. Dean doesn’t say anything as he begins to play with Cas hair. His head almost on Dean's lap. Cas looking up to catch his eyes once in awhile.

After a few minutes of his fingers being buried on Cas’ head, his breathing eases. Dean doesn’t stop. 

“Looking good, Cas,” Sam whistles when it’s done. The star standing out from the surrounding red and tan skin. 

“You too, Sam,” Cas responds neutrally. Sam laughs and throws an arm around him, avoiding the fresh tattoo. He stares at the mirror with an intense look. Like he can’t quite believe the mark on his skin is permanent.

Cas tries putting back on the shirt he was wearing, he hisses and walks out the store shirtless, saying it burns. 

Dean pays quickly and chases after the half naked angel. “Exhibisionist much?” He complains. 

“It hurts,” Cas explains. 

“Whatever, child.” Dean gets in the passenger seat. “Just don’t touch it.”

Cas gets in too, sliding across the driver's seat, getting in on Deans personal space (that stopped being his a long time ago.) He presses his hand lightly over Deans chest, the phantom of a touch brushing against his t-shirt. Dean unconsciously holds his breath. Cas tilts his head. “We match,” he murmurs, voice slightly above a whisper. 

Sam shifts on the backseat. “I have the same tattoo you know that, right?” 

Cas scoffs and backs away from Dean, a small smile on his lips. “Yes, the three of us match.” 

“Makes us a team,” Sam, cheesy as always. Dean turns so he can see him roll his eyes. 

They leave town, heading home. 

The sound of the wind and the tires tearing through the road lull Dean to sleep. 

He wakes up with the bright sunset light hitting his eyes. He opens them, the world a mix of reds and oranges. He turns to look at Cas. He’s still shirtless, eyes focused ahead, the angle of the light makes his forever bedhead shine. 

He is all Dean can see, the rest of their surroundings shining too much to distinguish anything else that isn’t Cas’ strong arms and his firm stomach. 

Dean swallows. Cas is shirtless, freshly tattooed and driving his car. 

It’s a long drive from then on. 

 

Arriving, they unpack and all head to their respective rooms, too tired to even bother about eating. 

Dean throws himself onto their bed and grunts, right bruised ribs, forgot about those. Cas follows his example. Landing really close to him. Dean thanks whoever that he finally put on one of Deans shirts. 

They stare at each other sleepily. Cas breaks the silence. “How is your chest?” 

“It’s been better,” Dean responds. Cas sighs and places his hand on the right side of his chest. Dean sucks in a breath. Cas grips his shirt, frustrated.   
“It’s fine, Cas.” He looks down slightly so he’s completely facing him. Dean knows what that sigh means, Cas does it every time they get injured and remembers that he can’t heal them anymore. “You stopped her from killing me.” He nudges him playfully with his elbow, Cas frowns. 

“Still,” he mutters. His fingers keep brushing against Deans collarbone. “Thank you for the tattoo,” he says after a while. 

“No problem, like I said it was about time.” Dean tilts his head so he’s looking at him. “You kinda freaked out on us tho.”

Cas looks away, Dean should probably change the topic but he’s always been stubborn and he's tired of being so damn ignorant all the time when it comes to Cas.

“I suppose the noise reminded me of heaven,” he mutters after a while. “When they got me out of purgatory, I was too weak to get away from the. The ones who held me down called it a ‘factory reset’.” 

“Still I disobeyed more often than not, so the procedures were frequent. I didn’t even know what was happening, I didn’t remember the orders I carried out, or the people I had hurt. Until I disobeyed, tried to run, failed and went back to being in the chair.”

Dean thinks that ‘rack’ and ‘chair’ sound exactly the same. He grasps Cas’ hand tightly, not letting go even when the other tugs in surprise, the lights flicker but Deans too riled up to think about anything else. “You should’ve told me.”

“I didn’t know that I would react that way,” Cas says honestly. 

“Fuck, what the hell?” Dean hysterically laughs. Cas looks at him with worry. 

“ Dean,” he says, his voice is slightly firmer. It snaps him out of it.

“Try to sleep,” Cas commands. “We’re all tired and you need to heal.” 

Cas falls asleep first, Dean watches him, wondering about how many scars would Cas carry if his body hadn’t healed them. How many of those Dean wouldn’t know how and where the fuck he got them.

 

The next morning Cas wakes him up with his tossing. 

“Mhh, fuck off.” Dean tries to push him off but he’s too damn tired to aim properly. 

“It hurts,” Cas moans. Tugging at the neck of his shirt. 

“Suck it up it’s necessary.” Dean throws a pillow over his head. 

“I hadn't thought about it, frankly.” Cas admits. “The fact that I can get possesed now,” he says, his voice resigned. 

Deans stomach twists painfully ‘I hadn't thought about how you could always get possesed apparently.’ He thinks. 

Dean doesn’t know how else to bring it up, but he wants to talk about it. Fuck, he’s too tired for this. “Do you remember it?” 

“Not really,” Cas answers after the silence becomes too heavy. “I wasn’t quite there.”

‘Yes you were.’ Dean wants to say. ‘You brought me back, it was you who was on the submarine with me.’ 

“Why did y-?” He cuts himself off, suddenly remembering the time he almost said ‘yes’ himself. The only thing he wanted to do was end it, he wonders if Cas felt the same. 

If he felt small and so fucking insignificant, facing an enemy that they had no hope in winning against. If he was tired of seeing hundreds die because they couldn’t put their damn feelings and yes, their pride aside and make the tough choice. 

But Cas did, he went to hell to bring the devil out in his own skin, just so they could even the playing field. And what good Lucifer did.

Dean closes his eyes remembering the images Amara kept showing him Cas, or the other one he couldn’t tell, bloodied and beaten to a pulp. Sometimes even passed out. 

He opens his eyes and shifts his head so he can stare at him some more. Just because he’s here and he can. 

“After you fought him in the bunker I became, difficult.” Cas makes a face. “He burned me out until I was to tired to fight back. After that I just watched some memories on a loop.”

He makes a pause and squints. “Were we ever in a church?” 

“Yeah, trying to get you back.” That could become Deans hobby because of how often he does it. ‘Trying to get our dumbass angel back and cooking.’ 

“After that I don’t remember much, just pain.” He stops tugging at the shirt, like remembering how much Amaras torture had hurt makes the ache of his skin look stupid. 

“Let’s go make pancakes,” Dean says. The guy fucking deserves them. 

“Dean,” Cas says, voice slightly above a whisper. He has his fingers latched in his, making him stay in the bed. “Thank you.” 

He gets up, heading towards the kitchen. Dean seats in the bed staring at the open door. How does Cas always manage to completely break him at a moments notice he’ll never know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesus christ its been so fucking long
> 
> i dont have an excuse.   
> im not even sure what ive been doing,,, bUT s13 is a fucking Blessing.....it just...keeps making parts of this canon..... dabb i owe you my life. 
> 
> i know i said i wouldnt start anything else until i finished this but.... i have no self control and i needed to get out of this fucking writersblock by any means necessary. so yeah sorry. 
> 
> if you want check out [my tumblr](http://i-drifting.tumblr.com/) i always love interacting with whoever reads this!
> 
> kudos and comments are very appreciated


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